Once Upon A Thyme
by zensho
Summary: COMPLETE Draco and Hermione travel back in time and switch stations in life. Both learn tough lessons about family, honour and love. Yes - a real treat for all you DHr shippers out there who crave good, long, fanfics.
1. Chapter 1: One More Week

**This is the story of two star-crossed lovers…It all started like this….**

**"….ONCE UPON A THYME….**

**Chapter 1: One More Week**

            "Tomorrow's the last paper!" said Ron in relief.

            "What did you put for question 9?" asked Hermione worriedly as she followed Ron and Harry out of the Transfiguration classroom.

            "Hermione, I thought we _told_ you that we don't like to discuss examination questions after the paper." Harry said, cleaning his glasses on his robes.

            Hermione frowned. "Yes but- I just wanted to know whether it was necessary to specify the wand action _as well as_ the incantation for the Veraverto to get full marks. Of course, I did specify both and the whole history of the spell as well…"

            Ron and Harry rolled their eyes.

            "Who bloody cares?" said Ron gloomily. "I forgot what Veraverto meant in the first place. I left it blank."

            Hermione was scandalized. "You didn't!"

            "I did," said Ron, and grinned at her.

            "B-But…it was worth ten marks! You could have put something, anything…"

            "Hermione, forget it" Harry said replacing his glasses on his nose. The trio walked out of the castle into the grounds of Hogwarts. A crisp spring breeze was blowing. Harry suddenly flung his satchel to the ground and gave a huge leap into the air.

            "WOOOH!" he shouted.

            Several students turned round to stare at him. Seamus grinned at him and waved.

            Harry waved back.

            Ron flung his satchel down too and joined Harry in his war-dance of happiness.

            For Harry, the last two weeks had been a living nightmare- one difficult NEWT paper after the other…he couldn't believe it was nearly over! He realized he had forgotten nearly everything he had studied for his first NEWT paper- The History of Magic. His mind was a total blank where History of Magic was concerned. It felt GREAT! Harry whooped in joy.

            Hermione clutched her bag tightly to her side but even she couldn't help smiling. The fresh spring breeze and budding flowers were having an effect even on her. She watched happily as her two best friends leapt around each other singing tunelessly at the tops of their voices, "NO MORE EXAMS! NO MORE EXAMS!"

            "All right you guys," Hermione said.

            "Come on, Hermione!" yelled Harry as he grabbed her hands and pulled her into their ridiculous war-dance.

            "Hey….HEY!" gasped Hermione, feeling silly and out of breath as she was flung around.

            Out of the corner of her eye, she felt someone watching them.

            Malfoy.

            Again.

            She felt something heavy land inside her chest. 

Even after seven years, he never failed to make her feel uncomfortable and angry. His hatred for mudbloods was only slightly diminished, if at all, after the Mudblood Revolt last summer had put his father and his other death-eater cronies into Azkaban. Following the Revolt, the Ministry had issued the Equality of Magical Persons Decree which legislated non-discrimination against half-bloods and mud-bloods- but the Decree only had the effect of affecting the surface attitudes of many Pureblood supporters, like the Malfoys. She was convinced that beneath the surface, people like Draco Malfoy hadn't changed at all.

She wrenched her gaze away from his and put him out of her mind. Why had he been watching her the whole of final term, the creep? Weren't the attentions of Blaise Zabini enough to occupy his perverted intentions? She had been after him like a dog in heat for years and had recently made it known to the whole school that they were getting married after graduation. Hermione thought with relief that after next week, she would never have to voluntarily be within ten miles of Malfoy again. Why let him ruin her last week of school?

Draco caught Hermione's eye as her friends whirled her around in a ridiculous dance. He noticed that she hadn't joined in straight away- it was started by that childish Potter and Weasley. They had dragged her in half way. What was wrong with them? At eighteen- they should be behaving like men, not four year-olds.

Malfoy felt his coming of age like a leaden cloak around his shoulders. The day his father had been sentenced to life-imprisonment in Azkaban, he had handed Draco the family seal- a beautiful gold and emerald signet ring- and entrusted him with the running of Malfoy Manor and fortune.

 Draco had been only seventeen then and already he had to function as head of a large household- he had to balance accounts that he had never seen before, run investments that he had never heard of, meet people he did not know. And all the while, see to it that his mother received proper care since her mind began failing once her husband entered Azkaban.

_Mother. Draco thought. She had been under his father's imperius for so many years that her mind had forgotten how to function on its own. The healers from St Mungos had wanted to keep her there permanently, but Draco would have none of that. She was a Malfoy. She would remain at the Manor with he best nursing the Malfoy money could buy. Father would have wanted it that way._

_Father. Draco thought. Now in Azkaban, his dreams of power crushed after Wonder-Boy-Potter had destroyed Voldemort after the Mudblood Revolt. _Lucius___, you were a fool Draco thought bitterly. _It was clear from the start that Voldemort would never have shared power with you anyway_. That was his father's mistake. He had served another. The Malfoys never served others- it was against the family honour. But Lucius had been seduced by promises of power and glory and now, it had come to… this. It was up to Draco to rebuild the tattered Malfoy name and honour. Those years of damage done by Lucius had to be erased._

And Draco knew that one of the most effective ways of rebuilding family honour was to align oneself with other powerful pureblood families. It had not been hard to arrange a marriage with the Zabini daughter. He knew Blaise had had a crush on him for years. Fortunately, she was not ugly either- not like pug-faced Pansy or bull-bodied Millicent. He had felt no love when he asked her to marry him. The only emotion coursing through him at the time was desperation to rebuild the Malfoy name. So the wedding was scheduled for December in the year of their graduation from Hogwarts.

Seven months away.

He watched as Granger and her friends picked up their bags from the grass and straightened their cloaks. They were laughing and talking but were too far away for him to hear what they were saying. Draco envied them their carefree happiness but he turned his envy into hatred. It was too painful to admit for what it really was. After next week, he would likely never see them again- Scarhead, Weasel and….Granger. The mudblood. One of _the mudbloods responsible for ruining his family and thrusting adulthood upon him at such a young age. _What _ was it about her that had repulsed and fascinated him for years? Anyway, why let them ruin his last week of school?_

He turned and walked off.

********************************** 

            "Ferret Boy was watching us again," said Ron casually as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. Harry nodded.

            "Wrong" Hermione said quietly.

            "You saw him, he was right under that tree. Creepy really, how he seems to follow us around without picking a fight or insulting us or anything. Just stands there all googly eyed." Said Ron.

            "What do you mean, 'wrong' Hermione? Haven't you noticed? Hanging around us in the library, watching us at the lake…this final term's been really odd. It's like Malfoy's become all weird on us after his father got sent to Azkaban- he used to insult us and be so nasty...but now all he does is mooch around and er…mooch." Harry said thoughtfully.

            Hermione shook her head. "You're wrong. He's not been watching _us…he's been watching _me_."_

            Ron's eyes opened in surprise. "Say what?"

            Hermione gave an impatient sigh. "You only notice him when we're together, all three of us. Have you ever noticed him when you're alone with Harry or all alone for that matter? No?" she watched as both boys shook their heads. "Well, I've noticed him watching me even when I'm not with you. I could be alone or with Ginny or Lavender or anybody and there Malfoy is, watching." She gave a shudder.

            The trio climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

            "Hard luck, Hermione" said Ron, shaking his head in sympathy.

            "Yeah, I wonder what's up with Malfoy?" said Harry.

            "If he tries anything funny with our Hermione" said Ron fiercely, slamming his fist into his palm. "I bet he's just waiting for a chance to attack her…I always knew that he became all weird after the Mudblood Revolt and his father and everything."

            "Don't be ridiculous, Ron" said Hermione calmly. "Malfoy's not so stupid as to _attack_ me. He can't risk attacking a mudblood after the decree...they're really clamping down on that sort of thing at the Ministry now."

            "Well all I'm saying is…"

            "Is it bothering you Hermione?" asked Harry in concern. "I could talk to him or something. Get him to stop."

            "No…besides, we don't have any real proof." Said Hermione reasonably. "There's just one more week of school…let's not spoil it."

            "I agree" said Harry.

            "I guess so," said Ron. Ron still harboured a deep dislike of all the Malfoys- Lucius Malfoy had always tried to make life difficult for Ron's father at work.

            "And besides," said Hermione as she lugged her heavy bookbag up the stairs, "his father is in Azkaban and his mother is sick. We shouldn't give Malfoy a hard time as long as he doesn't actually get in our way."

            Harry and Ron's eyes opened in amazement as Hermione disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

            "Did she just say what I think she said about Malfoy?" said Ron in disgust.

            "I think she's been studying too hard for the NEWTS" said Harry as he and Ron settled down on the sofa with their Potions textbooks. Other final year Gryffindors were sprawled around the room cramming for the Potions NEWT. The younger Gryffindors had considerately left the common room to their seniors to study and most were in the Great Hall or dormitories.

            The final examination tomorrow was Potions. Harry was dreading the paper- Professor Snape had informed his class last week that he was sure they would all fail abysmally judging by their performance in his class throughout the years. Of course, he hadn't included his dear Slytherins in that little speech- it had been  a Hufflepuff/Gryffindor double potions lesson. Harry considered what he would do if he failed Potions. His dream of becoming an Auror would be destroyed…he supposed he could always become a teller at Gringgott's bank…or a clerk at the Ministry of Magic. He shuddered.

            Gloomily, Harry opened his textbook to a random page- he had read it through three times already and hardly cared what he studied now. His eyes fell on a spell they had covered early in their seventh year and he began to mutter it to himself. "How to brew a Thyme Eliminus potion…."


	2. Chapter 2: You Ruined My Life

**Chapter 2: You Ruined My Life**

            "I feel sick" said Neville, staring at his sausages and eggs.

            "Aw, come on, Nev. Cheer up…by this time tomorrow, it will be over" said Ron, thumping the dumpy but good-natured boy on the back.

            "It's not tomorrow I'm worried about…" Neville said darkly. "It's how to get there." He made a strangled sound in his throat.

            Ron patted Neville in sympathy. He wished he could assure Neville that the Potions examination would be a breeze, but in all honesty, he couldn't. Not with knowing Neville's track record in Potions lessons.

            The Great Hall was unnaturally quiet that morning at breakfast. It seemed that the tense silence of the seniors had filtered down and affected the juniors. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Hannah Abbot had spread out her notes all over the table and was poring over them with Justin Finch Fletchley. The honey jug had toppled and was also pouring over her notes but they seemed not to notice.

            At the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle's appetites did not seem affected by the upcoming potions exam. They resolutely stuffed sausages and eggs into their mouths, ignoring the dramatic sighs and little screams emitting from Pansy and Millicent who were flipping the pages of their Potions textbooks rapidly.

            Harry stared straight in front of him, mechanically spooning porridge into his mouth. He was trying to ignore Hermione studying ferociously at his side. She was muttering under her breath, and turning the pages of her self-made notes as fast as she could. Occasionally, she would pause to take a deep breath only to begin muttering ferociously again.

            "Hermione, you haven't touched your food" said Lavender, from across the table.

            Hermione glanced up for a second, her eyes unfocused, before hunching down behind her enormous stack of notes. Harry was well aware that her self-made notes were thicker than her real Potions textbook.

            Ron pulled a face at Lavender who smiled at him. They all knew what Hermione was like on mornings of examinations.

            Hermione had memorized every potion in the book and then some. She was determined to do well… if for no other reason than to be able to wave her "Oustanding" grade in front of Snape's hooked nose. It made her blood boil how Snape always graded her one mark lower than Malfoy even though the results of their potions were always the same. Well, Snape wouldn't be grading her this time…it would be the Examinations Board and she would show him! All this ran through her mind as her eyes moved frenziedly across the page.

            Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. And she knew exactly why.

            She looked across the hall at the Slytherin table and sure enough, _he_ was watching her again. Unlike most of the other students in the hall, Draco appeared calm. He was not cramming notes or looking nauseous. _That maddening self-assurance!_

            Blaise clung to his arm, trying to feed him a bit of toast with her fingers. Malfoy brushed her off impatiently. Blaise cast her eyes down and ate the toast herself.

            So you're Snape's star student, eh Malfoy? She thought. Well…the Examinations Board hadn't seen Hermione Granger! We'll see who the top Potions student is in this school!

            "Again?" whispered Harry, noticing where Hermione was looking.

            Hermione jumped.

            "Yes" she said quietly. "But forget it. It's no big deal."

            "D'you think he's trying to tell you something?" said Harry.

            "Tell _me something?" snorted Hermione. "Not a chance. What could he possibly have to say to a _mudblood_ like me that he hasn't already said in the six years we've known each other?"_

            Harry thought she sounded bitter and shrugged his shoulders. He knew it was a bad time to work themselves up over Malfoy. This was a compulsory paper and would count toward their scores in their leavening certificates. He scraped his porridge bowl clean and began gathering up his books.

            The examination wasn't till 2 pm that afternoon, so the students had the morning to study. Harry, Ron, Neville and Seamus went out beside the Great Lake to study. They had a favourite tree to sit under. Hermione, as was her custom, went straight to the library. She hated talking to anyone before the paper and preferred studying alone.

            Hermione settled down in her favourite corner of the library and spread her notes and books around her. She looked out of the window at the grounds of Hogwarts- so beautiful and tempting in the May sunshine- and shook her head. No. She must concentrate. To her dismay, she began to feel a bit wooly-headed again. She had noticed it yesterday evening- she suspected she had finally overdone the studying. It wasn't as easy to recall information as it had been for the first paper.

            She gritted her teeth. Information overload or not, she _must_ focus on this last paper. It was too late to give up now. She turned her eyes to her notes.

            "Granger."

            She looked up in surprise. She hadn't been aware that there were other people in this deserted corner of the library. Her eyes landed on the last person she wanted to see on the morning of her Potions exam.

            "Malfoy"

            He was leaning casually on the table in front of her, one hand resting on the table, the other in his trouser pocket. His silver-blonde hair fell into his gray eyes. In the ray of sunshine streaming in from the window beside them, he appeared to almost glow.

            "What do you want?" she said, irritated at being interrupted. "And where's faithful Blaise?" she added, tartly.

            "Faithful Blaise is with faithful Pansy and faithful Millicent" he replied smoothly. "My fan club, you know."

            "Well, good for you." Hermione said. "Now, if you don't mind, I was studying." She noticed her heart was racing. What did he want with her? Was Ron right? Was he going to attack her now that they were finally alone in this deserted corner of the library? She jumped as he snatched her Potions textbook from out of her hands and held it up to his face.

            "Give that back!" she whispered fiercely.

            With one glance, Draco looked at the neat underlining of almost every paragraph in every page of the book. That was no surprise, Granger was the swottiest swot in the whole of Hogwarts. He put the book down.

            "Scarhead and Weasel not around today?" he said, pleasantly.

            Hermione's blood began to boil. "Get to the point Malfoy. I doubt you came here for small talk. If you think you are going to rattle my nerves before the Potions exam just so that you can score better….you've got another think coming because nothing, NOTHING, you say can affect me."

            Malfoy felt a smile playing on his lips.

            "That's good, Granger. Because I've been wanting to tell you something for some time now and I don't think you'll like it."

            "Try me."

            Malfoy narrowed his eyes and began speaking in a low, harsh voice.

            "You ruined my life, mudblood. You are a stinking, disgusting, muggle-born thing…"

            Hermione gasped. But Malfoy continued…

"If you had any idea what you and your _species_ have done to my family, to my life…but no, you have no idea about the honour in great families, the value of lineage, the responsibilities of being wizarding royalty…"

"Wizarding _royalty_?" Hermione snickered, her eyes flashing. "Have you learned _nothing since the Revolt, Malfoy, you ferret?"_

"Don't call me that" Malfoy said, in a dangerous voice.

"Oh, and I suppose it's okay for you to call me a _mudblood? A stinking, disgusting mudblood?" Hermione's voice was rising._

"You will never understand our position! What we stand for!"

"I think understand! Narrow-mindedness, conceit and snobbishness! You think we are beneath you…"

"You are! In the old days, you would have been labeled a common witch, denied entry into the great sorcery families…"

"…and made to polish your boots and shovel your dung I suppose!"

"Yes!"

"You dare to talk about me ruining _your life…your death-eater father and his murderous cronies ruined the life of thousands of people in the world. You've made my life hell for the last seven years…I've stayed out of your way, so don't you talk to ME about ruining YOUR life!" Hermione's voice rose to a shout._

"Low-born witch!" Draco hissed. "It's all about your goody-goody friends and ways isn't it? Nasty naughty Draco Malfoy…death-eater's son and rich brat. No one ever asks me about my views… no, they don't count because nowadays, everyone bows down to mudbloods…"

"Shut up!"

"…and Hermione Granger is their star. The mudblood who helped lead the Revolt…"

"Is everything all right?"

It was Madam Pince. Hermione and Draco were both on their feet now, each rigid with fury and glaring at each other over the table. Both were unable to speak with anger.

"Yes." Hermione finally choked out, turning to Madam Pince. "Sorry about the noise."

"Well, keep it down." Said Madam Pince sharply. Hermione was her favourite student and she trusted her to behave.

"We will." Hermione said, trying a small smile. Madam Pince nodded and left.

Hermione sat down calmly and opened her Potions book. "Good try at rattling me, Malfoy. But as I told you, I couldn't care less what you had to say to me. Have a nice day."

Draco was still seething with fury. A thousand nasty things flitted through his mind. If they were completely alone, he would have grabbed Granger and shaken her till her teeth rattled. Probably slapped her a few times too. Prissy, goody little know-it-all. With her happy friends and happy life stretched out in front of her…

He couldn't let her have the last word.

"One day Granger, I hope you look at life like I do and see nothing but burden and duty. Then we'll see if you're still little miss sunshine."

"Ooh stop, Malfoy. You're making me cry." she said sarcastically.

"Good. It's what I wanted."

******************************************** 

            Hermione found her thoughts flying everywhere after Malfoy had stormed off. _Focus Hermione_. Potions….Potions…she tried to read the explanation about the Sleeping Draught again but the words swam before her eyes. _Damn you Malfoy! If you wanted to make me lose my concentration…congratulations!_

            She slammed her textbook shut in exasperation and rubbed her eyes. It was clear that she couldn't study any more for now. Maybe if she took a break and went for a walk around the castle, the fresh air would do her good.

            Hermione put all her books into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She headed for the castle grounds. Her head was full of nothing but Malfoy's hateful words. _You ruined my life, mudblood…you are a stinking, disgusting, muggle-born thing._ Typical Malfoy rudeness. After that 'Weasley is my king' stunt back in the fifth year, she had nothing but the lowest expectations of his behaviour. It was a pity that after seven years, she still hadn't got used to it! She wished she could just let it wash over her, like Harry did, but every time Draco started on her, she would feel her blood begin to boil.

            And what was that rubbish he was talking about? _honour__ in great families, the value of lineage, the responsibilities of being wizarding royalty…wizarding royalty, indeed! Hermione gave a snort. Conceited little ferret! If the Ministry heard him talking like that, they would have him investigated for discrimination against muggle-borns. __Burden and duty what the hell was he on about anyway? Certainly Malfoy had changed. His insults and pranks used to be so…childish. But now, there was an edge to them, a kind of desperate bitterness. She remembered how Ron had described Malfoy's behaviour lately…Creepy._

            All those notions of lineage and honour…that went out with the horse and carriage many years ago! She couldn't help it if he and his other Pureblood maniacs were stuck in the past.

            "Hey!"

            "Sorry!"

            Without knowing watching she was going, Hermione had walked straight in Blaise Zabini. The ebony-haired girl smiled at Hermione. So Draco had chosen Zabini…biiiig surprise. The Zabini's were ridiculously rich and powerful purebloods, also, Draco couldn't have failed to notice that Zabini had blossomed into a very attractive young lady. Hermione had nothing against Blaise. Blaise was not spiteful like Pansy or mean like Millicent.

            "Have you seen Draco? I couldn't find him all morning." Blaise asked.

            Hermione wanted to laugh at the question. _Well yes, actually we just had a screaming match in the library._ "No, sorry" Hermione said.

            "That's okay" laughed Blaise, nervously. "It's just that…" She bit her lip. "Nothing. Thanks."

            Hermione looked closely at Blaise. There was something wrong. The usually cheerful Blaise looked…tearful?

            "Blaise? What's up? Are you okay?"

            The dark girl shook her head. "Thanks. Just worried about Potions."

            "Aren't we all?" said Hermione, kindly.

            Hermione watched as Zabini walked away. There was something about her movements…forced and dull. Not at all like earlier in the year when she told everyone Draco had asked her to be his wife. Hermione couldn't help remembering Zabini trying to feed Draco toast at breakfast and her hurt look when he brushed her off. _Draco__ Malfoy, you are really are a number one asshole, Hermione thought savagely. __How can you treat someone you love that way? She's going to be your wife, for heaven's sake._

            "Hermione!" she heard Harry and Neville shouting at her from the lake. Without knowing it, her footsteps had taken her to their favourite study tree.

            "Thank goodness you're here!" said Ron, pulling her to the ground. "Seamus and I were just having an argument about Veritaserum… the book says _two_ dried Salamanders but Seamus was insisting that he read somewhere that _one_ big one would have the same effect. Of course, you would know the answer Hermione."

            Hermione rubbed her temples. Yes, she had read that somewhere too, but her head still felt woozy and she couldn't remember the exact details. "Seamus is right" she said, rather unsteadily. Seamus high-fived Harry who obviously agreed with him. "Where the potion specifies a number of small ingredients, a large one amounting to the combined weight of the smaller ingredients will suffice."

            "Hermione, are you all right?" Neville asked.

            The boys stared as Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her head.

            "Been studying too hard. Had a run-in with Malfoy in the library and now I have a huge headache."

            Ron looked upset. "What happened, Hermione? What did the ferret do?"

            "Oh his usual…mudblood insults and all that. He was just trying to rattle me before the Potions paper. He knows that he and I are neck and neck for top Potions mark in the NEWTS. Anyway. I'd rather not talk about it. I came out here to forget."

            "I don't know why that git just can't leave Hermione alone! He's been on at her for _years_. Harry, I understand, but Hermione? She's never got in his way." Said Seamus angrily.

            "Don't worry Hermione. Remember…just one more week and you'll never have to see him again." Harry said comfortingly.

            "Yeah….unlike Poor Blaise Zabini who will have to spend the rest of her life with Malfoy." Said Ron, harshly. "What a tragic girl she is."

            The other guys nodded.

            Hermione looked at Ron in surprise, "Blaise and Malfoy? They're in love, aren't they?"

            The guys snickered. "Not a chance," said Seamus. "Malfoys? Marry for love? Not since the twelfth century I would think! No, it's for her pureblood heritage he's doing it."

            Hermione felt incredibly angry. "I must talk to her!" Hermione jumped up.

            Harry pulled her down.

            "Calm down, Hermione. It's no use."

            "But she doesn't know…"

            "Yes, she does." Harry said gently.

            "Then why doesn't she break it off?"

            Neville and Ron, both products of pureblood marriages and long pureblood bloodlines shifted uncomfortably.

            "Er…. The burden of pureblood honour and lineage?" ventured Ron. He saw Hermione begin to bristle. Of course, since the Mudblood Revolt, such things had technically ceased to matter and Hermione had championed that cause. "Not that _we believe anything like that of course," he added hastily. "Remember, Percy married Penelope and __she's muggle-born. Us Weasley's gave up on that kind of narrow-mindedness long ago."_

            "Yeah, so did we" said Neville, who everyone knew was sort-of-seeing Padma Patil, a half-blood.

            "But there are some families that are still mad keen on that kind of thing. The Malfoys, the Zabinis, the Montagues…practically all the Slytherins." Ron counted the names off on his fingers. "There is no way Roberto Zabini will let his daughter out of such a favourable marriage. She knows it."

            Hermione was staring into space.

            "It's lunch time!" said Seamus, getting to his feet. "Come on, Hermione. I bet after a big glass of cold milk you'll feel much better and clearer-headed for the exam! Our Hermione can beat old Draco Malfoy at Potions any day!"


	3. Chapter 3: Potions NEWT

**Chapter 3: Potions NEWT**

            _Just my rotten luck thought Hermione as she lined up with the Slytherins outside Potions Dungeon A for her Potions NEWT. It had been a one out of three chance that they would have to share their dungeon with the Slytherins…why did she have such bad luck? She watched as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws lined up outside Potions Dungeon B for their exam._

            By now, Neville was a bluish shade of green. Ron wasn't looking much better either. Harry's mouth was shut in a firm line and he refused to speak to anyone. Hermione felt her heart pounding hard…she mentally went through all the potions she knew as quickly as she could. Of course, that was a silly thing to do before an exam because, of course, in her panic she felt as if she couldn't remember even a single one.

            To her dismay, she saw Professor Snape marching down the corridor, his cape billowing darkly around him. He looked like an overgrown bat. He paused and said something to the students outside Dungeon B and she saw the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws visibly droop after he swept away from them. Susan Bones had started crying and was being comforted by Padma Patil.

            Then Snape was upon them.

            "Well, well…another unlikely lot of NEWT examinees." He said crisply. "Some of you should have no problem…" he nodded curtly at the Slytherins who simpered, "…but some of you might want to consider withdrawing from the examination now before you record your idiocy at Potions in a NEWT result for all posterity. Anyone wish to withdraw?" He glared at the Gryffindors. Neville started forward desperately but Seamus yanked him back by the hem of his cloak. Snape smirked. "Very well then…good luck…I only say it because you'll need it."

            Lavender and Dean turned white. Neville was trembling. Harry still kept the resolute expression on his face as he stared at the back of Ron's head. Hermione swallowed hard. _Ignore Snape_ she told herself.

            "Ah…Students! You may enter the Dungeon!" a short, balding wizard with "EB" for "Examinations Board" emblazoned on a jacket that was slightly too small for him hopped out of the previously locked dungeon and held the door open for the students.

            The Gryffindors and Slytherins went immediately to their usual benches.

            "Welcome, welcome. Now, now, don't be nervous." Chuckled the balding wizard, looking at the tense faces before him. "I remember myself at your age…thought I would fail…but instead I got an Outstanding…ha ha…"

            No one laughed.

            "Ah…Ahem…all right, as this is an examination, you will not be seated in your houses. To prevent cheating, a random seating list has been issued to me by the teachers in your school so will you please listen for your bench partner's name and then move to the correct bench."

            The Gryffindors and Slytherins pulled faces at each other, but obediently gathered up their cauldrons, wands and quills.

            "Listen up...Brown and Bulstrode, Bench 1 if you please. Ah, excellent. Thank you Miss Brown and Miss Bulstrode. Bench 2…lets see here… Carrington and Crabbe. Excellent…."

            And so the list went on…Hermione did a little mental calculation of whom she would be paired with, the list seemed to be going alphabetically..._oh no she thought suddenly. _Oh no, please God no…__

            "Granger….Malfoy, Bench 6."

            There was a tense silence in the class and a complete lack of movement. Ron shot Hermione a look of sympathy.

            The balding wizard glanced over the top of his list. "Are these students present? Granger? Malfoy?"

            There was small noise as Malfoy picked up his things and walked smartly to Bench 6. Hermione felt her hands and feet mechanically doing the same.

            "Ah…Head Boy and Head Girl at the same bench. Charming. Don't think we'll have cheating there…ha ha…ahem…" The examiner coughed when he saw the murderous looks on the Heads' faces. Hermione and Malfoy's faces showed that they did not think the arrangement charming at all.

            Hermione carefully avoided looking at Malfoy. So what if she had to share a bench with him for Potions? In three hours, it would be over.

            "Scared, Granger?" she heard him whisper at her shoulder.

            "You wish."

            Malfoy raised an eyebrow and twirled his quill around his fingers.

            "Don't let this morning's talk upset you" Draco said pleasantly before dropping his voice "…_stinking mudblood_" 

            Hermione turned round and glared at him. "Don't worry, I won't- _ferret__ boy."_

            "Students! Please refrain from talking." said the examiner.

            Malfoy and Hermione glared at each other.

            Once all ten benches were filled, the examiner put down his list and began giving out the examination papers.

            Hermione fingered her parchment nervously, eager to turn it over.

            "The first part of the exam will be a written test. You have two hours to complete all the questions on the parchment. Any cheating will be punished with immediate failure. The second part of the exam will require you to brew a Thyme Eliminus Potion. Basic instructions are given at the bottom of your parchment. At the end of the third hour, you will each stopper your flasks and hand in your potions labeled with your names to me. Be very careful not to DRINK or TOUCH the finished potion. As you know, the Thyme Eliminus Potion has drastic effects if not administered correctly. Questions?"

            Pansy Parkinson tittered and raised her hand.

            "Yes?"

            "Oooh…What if we run out of parchment?"

            Hermione rolled her eyes. Parkinson never failed to ask the same question at the start of every exam even though all the students knew the routine.

            "I have spare parchment with me. Raise your hand and I will give you an extra sheet. Any other questions? No? Then your time begins now, you have three hours."

            The examiner flipped over an enourmous hour-glass on his desk and the students turned over their parchments.

            Hermione quickly read through the written part of the exam. It looked fairly straight forward. Section two read "Brew a Thyme Eliminus with the ingredients you find in a box under your bench." Hermione looked under the bench to see two boxes, one near her feet and one near Malfoy's.

            Malfoy.

            Ugh.

            She watched him begin writing calmly at her side. Never making mistakes, never crossing out words. For once, he didn't seem to be obsessed with making feel uncomfortable. He was completely absorbed in the paper. This was no surprise, besides herself, Malfoy was the only other student in the school who managed to receive "Outstandings" from Snape for Potions. She had better get started as well. She read Question 1 carefully.

            1a. _Describe the dissection process of Mandragora and how to brew a Restorative Draught using the results of said process. (10 marks)_

1b. _How__ may one alter the strength of the restorative draught to cure different levels of Petrification? (5 marks)_

            Easy. Hermione had known how to do this since Second Year. She picked up her Quill and began to write. _Mandrake Root or Mandragora may be dissected by…_ her quill stopped mid-sentence and little bursts of lights flooded her vision. What was happening? She shook her head. Why was it so hard to remember? She wrenched her brain back from its inclination to sluggishness and forcd the words out onto the parchment. _Second Year…the chamber of secrets…Basilisk…petrify…moaning myrtle…_ as she wrote the answer, memories of Second Year flew threw a small part of her mind. She shook her head…why couldn't she concentrate?

            Finally, she managed to answer question one. She sneaked a look at Malfoy and saw that he was already on Question 3.

            He must have noticed her peeking because he flashed her a glance. There was no anger or accusation in that glance. He appeared to be absorbed in the examination. Over to her left, Pansy sighed dramatically and Harry Potter stuffed his fingers into his ears.

            She put her quill down, rubbed her eyes and closed them for a second.

            She saw Malfoy looking oddly at her again. Tears sprung to her eyes as she read the second question. She knew the answer, it was simple, but her brains felt like cotton wool.

            …s_tinking mudblood…you'll be next, mudbloods…you ruined my life… Malfoy's words hovered stubbornly in her brain. She shook her head violently and picked up her pen. No, she could do this. Using every ounce of her intellectual ability (which was a lot), Hermione Granger began her examination in earnest. Before she knew it, she had finished Part 1._

            "Students, you may begin Part 2. The ingredients for the Practical Part of your examination are under your table in a box."

            Hermione was so relieved at having finished Part 1 that she took a  few minutes to close her eyes and rub her head again. She heard other students setting up their cauldrons and picking up their boxes. Malfoy was already opening his box. Slowly, she bent under her table to pick up her box. She was surprised to see a torn piece of parchment, smaller than her thumb, resting on top of her box.

            "_I saw you crying" was all that was written on it._

            She choked with anger. She wanted to yell at Malfoy…how did he always manage to make her feel so furious and helpless? But she couldn't yell at him now, because it would be a breach of exam rules. She saw him smirk to himself as she prepared her ingredients. _Ooooh__, Malfoy, what wouldn't I give to pull that pretty blonde hair till you scream…_

            She lit her fire savagely and threw the strip of parchment on it. She pretended it was Malfoy burning there and it made her feel slightly better. She began to sort her ingredients. A Thyme Eliminus Potion wasn't so hard…they had covered it earlier in their Final Year. It was a time-travel potion that brought you back in time…sort of like a time-turner but capable of bringing you back further in time more rapidly. When they had practiced brewing it earlier in the school year, splashing a drop of it on themselves had brought them back one week in time. It had needed a time-turner to bring them forward again, Professor Snape had brought one along for just such a purpose.

            She pulled on her thick gloves and put on her goggles. This was easy. She remembered exactly how to brew it.

            Or she thought she did. She suddenly had lights flashing before her eyes again. She staggered slightly and gripped the edge of the bench. She was aware of Malfoy at her side glaring at her.

            "Watch it, Granger."

            She tried to answer but couldn't.

            "I don't feel well…" she whispered. She couldn't believe she was admitting this to Malfoy, but she had been trained to alert her bench partner to any difficulties she might be facing.

            Malfoy stared at her like he didn't know what to do.

            "Shall I tell the examiner?" he muttered at last. "Do you want to stop?"

            She steadied her self and shook her head. "No, I can go on."

            He shrugged and continued with his own potion.

            The examiner hadn't noticed the exchange, he was busy helping Neville select a new cauldron from the spares…Neville had managed to melt his cauldron down in the first five minutes of the hour.

            Hermione went on with her potion. She knew for certain she was not well…it was the studying and nerves and exhaustion. But she was so close…just ten more minutes and she would have the perfect Thyme Eliminus Potion stoppered, labeled and sent on to the Examinations Board to get an Outstanding. Then there would be summer holidays…Hermione fanned her cauldron and added the last two ingredients…a large bunch of dried Thyme and a dove feather. She stirred it three times with a ladle and watched it simmer. 

In eight minutes, it would be finished. All around her, students heaved sighs of relief and sat back, watching their own potions brew for the last eight minutes. Hermione checked the colour…it had turned a dark red…that seemed correct.  Hmm…maybe a tad darker than regulation but that could be the effect of the light.

Hermione thought about summer and fanned her cauldron fire. What would she do after graduation? Harry would be an Auror of course. Even after Voldemort's defeat, there was still Dark Arts in the world. Ron wanted to be a professional Quidditch player. Bill had been keen on Hermione joining Gringgotts and had tried to convince her when she visited the Burrow last summer to join them. Her arithmancy skills would be very useful. But Hermione didn't want to be stuck in bank all the time. She knew her heart was in mediwizardy and she had even written to St Mungo's about their training programme.

            Hermione didn't notice her potion begin to bubble and turn a dark shade of brown.

She glanced over at Blaise, stirring her potion. Blaise would be Mrs Draco Malfoy. Would she work? She knew Blaise wanted to work with magical creatures but would being married to Malfoy end that dream for her? She looked at Malfoy. Was he old enough to be a husband? She wanted to giggle, surely not! Just seven years ago, he had been a snotty, weedy, little blonde boy….completely hidden in his father's shadow. All my father this and my father that…Malfoy was stirring his potion. His gray-blue eyes were cast down, and a frown was on his pale face. His blonde hair now fell loose around his face, not worn in that ridiculous slicked-back style he had favoured in the first year.

            Hermione's potion bubbled ferociously but quietly, now dripping down the sides of the cauldron.

Malfoy was tall, taller than most boys in Hogwarts. But he was also slim, not broad like Harry and Ron. His fingers were pale and thin, with surprise, she saw a large gold and emerald signet ring on his right ring-finger. She had never noticed it before. It bore the crest of a snake and a dragon curled around the letter "M".

Without a doubt, it was the Malfoy family seal. 

She knew from her study of history that the family seal was worn only by the head of the family. But wasn't that Lucius Malfoy? Lucius was in Azkaban now…and that meant…She glanced at the ring again and back at the serious-faced blonde man next to her. The ring, she thought, looked very heavy.

She was so deep in her thoughts of Malfoy as the head of the Malfoy estate at the age of eighteen that she didn't notice her cauldron begin to crack. Malfoy himself was brewing the perfect potion, he had already uncorked his flask and was waiting to fill it with a sample of the brew.

He turned to look at her, suddenly aware she was staring at him. She was aware he was looking at her but again, her brains felt like cotton wool. As if from far away, she saw his eyes grow wide and his mouth move  …_granger_, _your potion…_

She felt herself grow giddy and slid down onto her bench. At that exact moment, she heard the most tremendous explosion and felt something hot splatter all over her. There was a lot of screaming, she knew…coming from far away. She was drenched in something wet that smelt pleasantly like herbs… Thyme….a man next to her was yelling something….it all got softer and softer, and she felt like she was falling through a soft black cloud….then finally, there was a pleasant silence. Like being asleep.

Hermione let go of all her examination worries, all her stress and nervousness. She gave herself up to a deep, comforting sleep. She really needed this. No more exams. No more studying. Just deep, deep sleep. She never wanted to wake up, she was so warm and comfortable…

            "Good morning, M'Lady" said a voice.


	4. Chapter 4: Are Those Pearls Mine?

**Chapter 4: Are Those Pearls Mine?**

            Hermione shifted slightly in the bed. It had a strange, spicy smell. But it was warm and very comfortable. She had no desire to wake up just yet even though she felt like she had been sleeping for a very long time.

            "Mmm" she muttered.

            "M'Lady…You forget that today, you must rise early. Your mother has invited Senor Vittorio to show his silks in the Great Hall."

            What was she on about? Hermione thought. What silks? What Great Hall?

            Cautiously, Hermione opened her eyes and the room swam into focus. The first thing she saw was the face of a young woman hovering about two feet above her. She was rosy-cheeked and plump and wore a friendly smile. The rest of the room slowly worked its way into her consciousness…there was a heavily embroidered canopy blocking her view of the ceiling. Curtains were tied back to four posts of the bed revealing to her a room that was simply but comfortably furnished. A few pieces of heavy oak furniture were lined up against one wall and a writing desk was pushed against the window. The window had very heavy black lead frames and each pane of glass was tiny. Hermione could not see out the window without actually walking up to it.

            In confusion, she sat up as the friendly looking plump woman held a cloth and basin of water out to her.

            "Hurry, M'Lady. Senor Vittorio will be here any moment. I already let you sleep too long, but you looked so comfortable I did not want to wake you any earlier."

            "Where am I?" said Hermione quietly. Those were such ridiculous words and Hermione instantly felt like she was acting in _Neighbours or _Days of Our Lives_, but at this point in time, she really needed to know where she was. This wasn't Hogwarts! What had happened? She tried to remember but couldn't…all she remembered was going in for her Potions NEWT._

            The plump lady looked at her curiously then gave a hearty laugh.

            "You are jesting with me, M'Lady! Now is not the time for your tomfoolery! Please, you must wash and dress with haste." Hermione wiped her face and arms with the damp cloth and took a sip of water when offered one from a metal cup. Her head still felt groggy. This wasn't Hogwarts! She realized. What had happened? Where was she?

            The plump lady chattered on an on in rapid fire English with a heavy Northern twang that Hermione could hardly make out. She was now brushing down a dark blue silk gown laid out on a chair as well taking out white silk garments from various cupboards around the room.

            Hermione cautiously swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet and legs were bare! She was completely naked!

            "Eeep!" she gasped.

            The plump lady swung around and smiled at her.

            "Yes, rather cold this morning M'Lady. Strange for this time in May. Fanhope ordered more wood to be brought in. Looks like summer is late."

            Hermione gathered the bedclothes around her. They were soft and woolly and felt deliciously warm. The plump lady came forward with a white garment and held it out. She and Hermione stared at each other.

            "M'Lady?"

            "Huh?"

            The plump lady looked troubled. "M'Lady, do not jest with me. Quickly, come and get dressed."

            Hermione looked helplessly at the white garment before her. It was like a long under-dress but with boning at the top and lace stays. She had absolutely no idea how to wear it. Nevertheless, this plump lady looked as if she was going to help he with the whole dressing procedure…so…._okay okay…Hermione. Don't panic. Just go along and find out what has happened to you and where you are. Thank God they speak English here…_

            Hermione got out of bed and went towards the nurse. In two minutes, she was undergoing one of the most painful experiences of her life.

            "Aaaah!" breathed Hermione as she clung on to the bed-post.

            "There there, M'Lady. We go through this every morning since your mother insisted you were no longer a wee baby. And high time too…Lady Granger has been most soft with you. Most other girls are laced in when they are twelve. But you wept and cried so hard you didn't go into stays till you were fourteen. It's a good thing you're small all around anyway, we don't have to pull it half so tight…"

            Lady Granger? Hermione thought hard….that must be her mother! From the looks of everything around her, she must be in England, some time around the late-medieval to early Tudor period…what had brought her back in time? The Potions NEWT…answering Part One of the exam on parchment….Malfoy being an idiot as usual….Part Two…was…was…

            "Just in time!" declared the plump lady as she fastened the buttons down the back of Hermione's dark blue silk gown. Hermione was wearing at least two petticoats underneath. "But your hair…" the lady pulled a face. She ran to a chest of drawers and drew out a horn comb and a bunch of ribbons and steel pins.

            Just in time…_Time! Brew a Thyme Eliminus Potion!_ That was part two of the examination! She had brewed a Thyme Eliminus! There had been an explosion and screaming…._Granger, your potion…_How much of it had splashed onto her? How far back had she gone? Why was she in this place and living this life? Was she still Hermione Granger?

            "Sit down, please."

            Hermione sat down numbly on the bed and felt her thick wavy hair being mercilessly brushed, combed and pulled. _Think….think…._

She nervously looked at her arms, hands and fingers to see if they were different but fortunately, they looked just as they had when she dressed in her Hogwarts school uniform yesterday. Yesterday…that felt like a million years ago. Hermione used her fingers to feel her face and lips…her face felt the same. Was she still Hermione Granger? She must be, since her mother was Lady Granger…how had she come to inhabit this _person's place in life?_

"Please…" Hermione turned around to the lady who was arranging her hair.

"Yes, M'Lady?"

"…can I have a mi-looking-glass?" Hermione wanted to say "mirror" but caught herself in time.

"Surely. You know I always give you one before you go." Smiled the lady. She fastened one final plait of Hermione's hair behind her head and took a small round mirror from among her skirts. She handed it to Hermione.

Hermione took it with trembling hands…_please let it be me_ she prayed silently. _Please please let me be me_ she took a deep breath and stared into the mirror.

The face that looked back and her was that of a young girl of about eighteen. She had serious toffee-coloured eyes and long lashes. Her complexion was impossibly fair and there was a slight pink blush on her cheeks. Her lips were soft and pink and were now curving into a slight smile….because, Hermione Granger realized she looked _exactly_ like she did yesterday back in Hogwarts.

"You're so lovely it'll makes the young bards swoon," sighed the plump lady in approval.

_Me? Lovely?_ Thought Hermione. She had never considered this issue before. She was always more concerned with books and cleverness. Except for that one time Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball, Hermione's toilette in Hogwarts was to run a comb through her hair and splash water on her face before running down for breakfast with Harry and Ron and immersing herself in studies. Hermione had certainly never thought she could be considered "lovely".

It helped that the plump lady had dressed her hair exquisitely, braided it with ribbons woven in and pinned half of it on her head. Pearls hung down from the sides of her head and were fastened to a point at the back of her neck. _Are those pearls mine? Hermione sneaked a look at her outfit in the tiny looking-glass and saw that her breasts were pushed up high and the top of the blue silk gown clung becomingly to all her curves. __Curves! She never knew she had curves! A large, gold brooch was pinned to her breast._

Wow, this is almost like a make-over she thought. Wait till I get back to Hogwarts and Harry and Ron see me now!

This brought her plunging back to reality. 

There was no Harry. 

There was no Ron. 

There was no Hogwarts. 

There was only Hermione Granger, daughter of Lady and Lord Granger stuck somewhere in the 15th Century…

Hermione followed her maidservant down a narrow stone hallway hung with beautiful tapestries. Her footsteps echoed along the hallway. Occasionally, she could glance out of windows or into rooms leading off from the hallway. They descended a flight of stone stairs, worn smooth with use, and turned a corner to enter a large hall with a high, vaulted ceiling. A lady in a rich looking dark-green gown similar to the one Hermione was wearing turned around and smiled at her.

"Mother!" shrieked Hermione in relief, running towards the familiar face.

The happy look on the lady's face turned into an expression of surprise.

"Hermione…what is the matter with you this morning? Why do you shout so?"

Hermione was trying to hug the lady but the lady gently restrained her and patted her on the back.

"Mother! Oh, I'm so glad you are here!" said Hermione excitedly.

"Well, where else would I be? Senor Vittorio will be here any moment now to show us the cloths from Italy. They have the very best cloth there and your father asked him to have a special showing for us."

Hermione's mother, so familiar and yet so foreign, misunderstood the disappointed look on her daughter's face.

"What's wrong, child? Are you not glad that we will have new gowns in winter?"

Hermione shook her head. "No…I mean….yes, Of course I am glad, mother. It was very kind of father to think of us."

Her mother took her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

"There is something different about you this morning, Hermione. But…I do not know what it is."

Hermione wanted to cry, but instead, she swallowed her insecurity and smiled. If she was going to come back in time and be stuck in a kind of alternate reality, it could have been a lot worse than being reborn as rich lord's daughter.

"It is nothing mother. I am too excited at being shown the cloth, I am angry that Senor Vittorio is late."

Hermione's back-in-time mother laughed and petted her daughter.

"That is more like my daughter. Feisty and full of life…your father said we should watch your playful nature, but I do love that about you." She said kindly.

Hermione smiled and took the lady's hand. Even though she did not behave like Hermione's mother would in real life, she clearly loved Hermione with a mother's deep love. And for Hermione, alone in a foreign world, it was something to be grateful for. Footsteps approached the hallway and a well-dressed man entered the hall. He bowed when he saw the two of them.

"M'Ladies, Senor Vittorio wishes to enter."

"Show him in, Audley." Said Lady Granger.

Ten minutes later, despite her whole unfortunate situation, Hermione Granger couldn't help but be totally and happily involved in choosing rich Italian fabrics for her winter gowns.

************************************************** 

            "She's GONE!" yelled Harry, rushing over to Bench 6.

            Parvati and Lavender were still screaming from the shock of the explosion. Even Pansy Parkinson looked stunned.

            "What do you mean she's GONE?" shouted Ron, looking desperately around for Hermione.

            "Hermione….has….DISAPPEARED!" yelled Harry, frantically searching around Bench 6 for signs of her.

            "Students! STUDENTS!" bellowed the examiner, suddenly very authoritative. The Gryffindors and Slytherins stopped their screams and shouts and turned to face him. The little bald man's face was white. He looked barely able to control his own panic. In all his years, this was the worst mishap he had encountered in Potions. Even worse than when, fifteen years ago, Amanda Bones had accidentally smeared some of her potion on her ears and had flowers growing out of them for a month, 

            "Return to your seats." He said, loudly.

            "Please sir! Hermione's gone!" said Harry desperately.

            "I SAID RETURN TO YOUR SEATS."

            Harry and Ron exchanged agonized glances and went back to their benches.

            "IS EVERYBODY ACCOUNTED FOR?"

            Harry's hand shot up. "PLEASE SIR! HERMIONE GRANGER, THE HEAD GIRL, HAS DISAPPEARED!"

            The bald wizard wiped sweat from his by now gleaming forehead.

            "Yes. I can see that…her potion exploded…what about the rest of you?" Nervously, the Gryffindors and Slytherins began to glance at each other…It was almost at the same moment that everone realized…

            "MALFOY HAS DISAPPEARED TOO!" said about ten voices at the same time.

            The bald wizard swallowed hard. "Malfoy? The Head Boy? Her bench partner?"

            "Yes, he's GONE!" squealed Pansy and burst into noisy sobs. Millicent followed and Blaise hung her head. Crabbe and Goyle looked stunned. They didn't really know how to continue life without Draco around to worship.

            "I saw them fade away…" said Goyle nervously. 

"He was beside her, lifting her or something…they disappeared!" volunteered Crabbe.

Both boys looked out of their depth.

            Millicent joined Pansy with equally noisy sobs..

            "No need for hysterics," said the bald wizard stiffly. He rubbed his forehead nervously. Right, two missing…Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy: cause, exploding Thyme Eliminus Potion...." he thought of the mountains of paperwork in front of him and felt giddy. "First things first, Finnegan?" Seamus looked up. "Take an empty flask and gather up some of Miss Granger's spilled potion for analysis. Brown?" Lavender looked up. "Go and fetch your headmaster and your heads of houses, now…GO!"

            Lavender scuttled out of the room in search of the professors.

            The bald man saw that the hourglass had run down. Three hours were up.

            "Due to the disruption, I am allotting you ten more minutes to complete your potions and stopper them. Please continue."

            Harry and Ron went shakily about pouring their potions into flasks and labeling them. Footsteps were heard along the corridor and soon, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape appeared, followed by Lavender Brown.

            Dumbledore looked more worried than Harry had seen him look for a long time.

            "Longbottom again, I suppose?" said Snape.

            "Er…no…" said the examiner. "It was Miss Granger…her Thyme Eliminus Potion exploded and now she and Mr Malfoy, her bench partner, have er…disappeared, as it were."

            "D-disappeared?" whispered McGonagall faintly. Hermione was her favourite student.

            "What?! Malfoy too?" said Snape in shock. Draco was _his favourite student._

            "Er yes…" said the examiner. "These things happen. Mr Malfoy got splashed by a large amount of her potion when her cauldron exploded…I'm afraid they've gone back in time."

            "Students, you are dismissed." Said Dumbledore calmly to the Slytherins and Gryffindors who were listening all agog to their professors.

            With many nervous mutterings of "What happened to them? Where are they?", the students left the room.

            "Potter, Weasley, Zabini….you may stay" said Dumbledore to the three students. Harry, Ron and Blaise lingered by the examiner's bench.

            Snape closed the door to the dungeon and the professors and students gathered around the examiner's bench to decide on the plan of action.

            "Details?" said Snape, shortly to the examiner.

            "Miss Granger had nearly completed her Thyme Eliminus…there was no indication of any trouble…then suddenly, there was huge explosion and I saw Miss Granger slide to the ground covered with the Potion and Mr Malfoy was covered with it too. He knelt down by her and started to lift her up…" 

            Here, there were gasps from Potter, Weasley and Zabini,

            "…and then I got a report from several students that they saw the two of them sort of..er…_fade…and then they disappeared for good. Awful thing to happen. And here is the sample of Miss Granger's potion that exploded…there wasn't much to collect, most of it went on her and Mr Malfoy." The examiner pushed a flask with Dark Red liquid across the table to the professors._

            "Severus?" Dumbledore said, "I think this is your area? Cold you help us test the strength of Miss Granger's potion so we have some idea of  what has happened to her?" Severus Snape nodded and took the flask, leaving the dungeon quickly.

            "How will they get back without time-turners?" yelped Ron, finally asking the question that had been on everyone's mind. There was a short silence.

            "If they still have their wands, it should be easy for them to perform simple magic and apparate themselves to Hogwarts in the past and ask for help there…" said the examiner eagerly. McGonagall looked relieved.

            "Please…" said Harry, clearing his throat.

            "Of course, Albus!" said the witch in green robes. "Miss Granger is a smart girl. She will think of that immediately. She got her License to Apparate last year, as did Mr Malfoy…"

            "Please, Professor Dumbledore sir," said Harry, unable to contain himself any longer, "Hermione doesn't have her wand with her!" said Harry, drawing out Hermione's wand and putting on the table.

            "Where did you get that?" said the examiner curiously.

            "I found it on her desk. She always likes to put her wand next to her quill when she does Potions" said Harry.

            "Excuse me," said Blaise softly. "Draco left his wand behind too…" she took out Draco Malfoy's black ebony wood wand and put it down on the table next to Hermione's. "I picked it up from his desk. He doesn't carry it on his person during Potions either."

            The gathered group stared at each other in despair.

            "Perhaps unfocused magic?" ventured Ron haltingly. All magical people could do unfocused magic without their wands but it was often unreliable. Even as he said it, Ron knew it was a bad proposition. McGonagall shook her head.

            "There is hope yet," said Dumbledore. On his face was a deep look of concentration. "I can think of one way they can return…without the use of their wands. I only hope they think of it too."

            Everyone turned to the headmaster, waiting for him to explain, to give them hope.

            Dumbledore sighed and began explaining to them the way Hermione and Draco could return on their own devices. It was so simple, so logical…but not at all easy.    

On the table, Draco's ebony wand and Hermione's holly wand lay next to each other. Close, but not touching.


	5. Chapter 5: You!

**Chapter 5: You!**

It was the second day in her new "life". After breakfast with her parents and Audley (who turned out to be her father's steward), Hermione had been left to her own devices. Actually, her mother's exact words had been "I hope you will work on your embroidery today. Industry is a virtue, Hermione."

            Virtuous or not, Hermione had done a couple of stitches of an elaborate hunting scene, and chucked the whole thing aside. She hated sewing!

            Over the last 24 hours, Hermione had discovered more things about "herself" in this "life". She didn't know why the Thyme Eliminus had brought her into this persona, and inside, she wondered where the "real" Mistress Hermione Granger had gone- or, were they living a sort of split-personality persona? For she found she had snatches of knowledge and insight about this life that there was no way she could have known back in Hogwarts. For example, she had known the names of several servants by instinct and…fortunately for her, how to use the privy.

In Hermione's mind, there was no doubt that this was the real past. She had discovered, through prudent questioning and keeping her ears open, that it was 1486. Henry Tudor had defeated Richard III at Bosworth Field last year. England was still Catholic and bathing was considered bad form. 

When Hermione had insisted on having a bath last night, her maidservant Mary (for that was the plump, smiling lady's name) had had ten fits. Hermione had managed to have a bath in a heated tub eventually but only with Mary pouring warnings of plague and distemper into her ear non-stop throughout the entire process.

Hermione stalked the hallways of the manor, deep in thought. In her mind, one thought was foremost…_how to get back to Hogwarts? She had realized long ago that her wand was not with her. It was impossible to apparate to the then-Hogwarts without it as she had hoped at first she might do. _Think think think…_She could try to look for other magical people to help her…but of course, they burned witches here didn't they? Hermione shuddered when she recalled Audley the steward reporting the witch burnings in Essex to her father. Anyone who wasn't Catholic, anyone who was different…was burnt alive._

Her footsteps brought her to the lower hall and armoury. The manor was huge…more like a small castle. On the walls of the armoury were wooden plaques carved with the Granger crest- an otter and a swan. _Were we really lords of the manor once?_ Thought Hermione proudly. Her parents, both dentists, would be thrilled to find that out! _Hmm…I wonder what made us decline in fortune?_ Hermione thought of her comfortable little Surrey House. Their most expensive 'heirloom' was her Great Grandfather's silver tea service…hardly lordly at all!

She walked around the armoury once, then went out to the lower hall. That was always filled servants coming and going on the lord's business. There was a heavy iron gate that shut the inner compound out from the outer compound. She peered through it and thought she could make out stables, fields and more buildings in the distance.

"M'Lady?"

She turned around. It was Fanhope, the bailiff. He was a young man, tall and well-built and his dark eyes and hair reminded her of Justin Finch Fletchley in Hufflepuff.

"What is it?"

Fanhope bowed politely and delivered his message.

            "Her Ladyship enquires if you would like to accompany her at chapel?"

            Hermione wondered what one did at "chapel" in the middle of the day, but she really didn't want to be stuck inside church in the middle of the brilliant May day.

            "I have to decline." She answered him quickly. "Please, how do I get outside?"

            "Outside?" asked Fanhope in surprise. "Mistress, you want to go _outside?"_

            "Yes" said Hermione testily, "Please open this gate."

            The bailiff shook his head. "It is as they said, you are not yourself these days. I'm afraid I cannot open this gate, your father would have my head if I let his only daughter out alone."

            "Well, then, you come with me!" said Hermione.

            Fanhope looked even more taken aback.

            "Mistress, I think you sicken. Perhaps we should call the doctor? Is there something you need?"

            Hermione shook her head. She looked at the firmly locked iron gate and at Fanhope's face and realized that she would never get out of the iron gate that way.

            "I was jesting…" she said pleasantly, and was glad to see Fanhope's worried expression vanish.

             "I will convey your message to Her Ladyship. And perhaps…a word of caution?"

            He looked at her gently, "you had better give up these ideas of yours, mistress. Gadding around, playing boy's games…it is unseemly. Your father thinks you should take on more womanly pursuits. And if I may say so, I agree with his Lordship. Such a lovely rose should never want to nestle among thorns."

            He reddened, bowed, and turned away from her.

            Hermione stared after him. Apart from being glad that yet another person had called her "lovely" (Pansy Parkinson, eat your heart out!), she was also glad that she had learned something new. Apparently, this "persona" of hers was quite the tomboy….quite the unmedieval lady. Well, that was good, because these corsets were killing her and she felt like she wanted to run and break free of everything…she felt that very soon, she might do something "unwomanly" and shocking. Hermione grinned to herself and gathered her brocade skirts around her.

            Off she went to find another way out of this damned manor…the curiosity about what lay outside consumed her. Perhaps this world wasn't real…and outside lay Hogwarts! If she could just see the fields, hills and towns around, she would know that all this was _real…She felt that the more she knew about her surroundings, the better she would be able to devise how to get back to her own time. She wasn't giving up hope yet._

            She wandered down to the kitchens and the servants murmured as she walked past. None actually stopped her, though they looked at her curiously.

            The kitchens were enormous. Clearly, this was one of the most important parts of the manor. Situated beneath the great hall, the kitchens were a good fifty feet long, with heavy wooden tables in the centre, each stacked with vegetables and game. There were several ovens as well as several water pumps situated along the walls. The place smelt rather unpleasant, smoke was everywhere…

            Hermione noticed how shabbily the servants were dressed. So far, she had only see the handmaids, serving boys, steward and bailiff, all who had been dressed quite well. But the servants in the kitchen wore coarse, patched tunics, dirty white shirts and shabby hose. They didn't look up as she passed, bowing and muttering, "M'Lady" or "Mistress".

            Hermione felt incredibly self-conscious. Her hair was still braided with ribbons and pearls, her gown was a deep, green brocade lined with valenciennes lace. Even her shoes looked expensive, soft and beautifully cut out of fine leather. The jeweled gold cross around her neck, so beautiful in the Great Hall upstairs, looked gaudily expensive in the kitchens.

            Turning red and wishing there was some quick way out of this place that she did not belong, Hermione hurriedly exited the kitchens and found herself walking along a narrow stone corridor. At the end was a door with a wooden latch which she opened quickly. Where would it lead?

            Hermione expected to come out into another suite of rooms in the manor, but to her surprise, a rush of cold wind hit her face along with a burst of sunshine.

            She had found a way out of the manor!

********************************************

            _Shit. Thought Draco Malfoy. __Shit shit shit._

            He wasn't just cursing either. He was making an actual observation of his surroundings. Draco was in the stables with three other young men scooping out horse dung with a large shovel.

            _What punishment is this! Thought Draco, bitterly. Blisters had already formed on his hands and every scoop burned his palms. Aaargh._

            "Git on wit it," said a man in the corner. "His Lordship is having visitors tomorrow. The Lord bloody Camvile no less."

            Draco had already formed a firm dislike of the man in the corner. Hibbings. He oversaw the work on the Lord's estate and was cunning and rude. Yesterday he had cuffed Draco on the ear for "sauciness". If Draco had his wand….to make himself feel better, Draco thought of all the curses he would like to cast on Hibbings…._Furnunculus_ for one. Hmm…_Jelly-Legs_ too. _Densaugio….not bad._

            His hands stung with pain, his crude boots were already caked with horse dung and he stank of it. It was all he could do to avoid getting it on his shirt and hose as well.

            "Yer aven't got all day" said Hibbings. "After this there's the 'erb patch and the lawns."

            That deserved a _Crucio_ thought Draco, smiling wryly. _This is all that bloody Granger's fault he thought. __ If she wasn't feeling well why the hell did she continue with the potions NEWT? Something like this was bound to happen, stupid girl._

            Draco remembered all too clearly Hermione's potion exploding. He had been soaked with it as was Hermione. Hermione had fallen onto the floor in a faint. It was instinct that made him try to help her up.

            _Instinct._ He told himself, sternly._ Just instinct, nothing else._

            As he held her in his arms, he had the strange sensation that he was being _sucked somewhere…like his body had been magnetized and was being drawn to a mysterious huge magnet somewhere. To his horror, Granger began to fade in his arms, then his own arms began to fade…and he was falling, falling…in deep sleep._

            He had woken up unhurt, but extremely uncomfortable in a very dark, musty room. He was naked except for his Malfoy signet ring. He sat up and realized that he was on a kind of low trestle bed. His mattress was thin and stuffed with straw…no wonder he ached in a hundred places! Immediately, he looked for his wand…but he realized that he had left it on the Potions Bench back at Hogwarts. He let out a stream of curses, many learned from Lucius.

            There were some clothes on a low stool by the bed – if it could be even called a bed. _Shit. What was this? Some form of linen shirt and hose. Filthy. Still, he couldn't walk around naked. Draco put the clothes on and strangely enough, they fit._

            What life had he been drawn back in time to? How come he found the whole place slightly familiar? He went straight to a cupboard and took out a stale loaf of bread. How did he know that it was in that cupboard? Draco shrugged. There was a jug with water in it on a stone slab by the side of the room and a fire burned in crude fireplace. It was rather smoky.

            Draco found himself ravenous and finished the whole loaf of stale bread and water. It tasted terrible. _Damn you Granger he thought. __And anyway, where are you?_

            But he couldn't spend all morning thinking about Granger, he had to go outside and see what was what. Maybe this was all a bad nightmare. Cautiously. Draco opened the door of his cottage. The first thing he saw was a castle in the distance. _A CASTLE_! _I should be in there!_

            He began to make his way toward it. After some time, there was a shout over to his left. It was the man he now knew as Hibbings. That was when his nightmare began in earnest…

            Draco stacked his dung shovel away in the corner and wiped his boots on the pebbled path outside. The other three lads did the same. The work seemed to get worse and worse. Yesterday, Hibbings had made them work on building an extra barn for the harvest which promised to be plentiful this year. The Lord of the Menor had acquired more lands. Draco had absolutely no idea how to build anything and had been the subject of much scolding. When he answered back, Hibbings had boxed his ears.

            The worst part of the nightmare was learning that the Lord of the Manor was Lord Granger of Suffolk. Draco had laughed aloud. He had a good idea of what had happened. So far, he had not managed to get a glimpse of prissy-Head-Girl Granger, but he had been keeping his eyes open. _Come out, come out, wherever you are_.

            The thing Draco couldn't understand was why everyone still knew him as Draco Malfoy. If he had come into the life of someone else, surely he would have a different name, a different identity? Surely no one in the _Malfoy family had ever been a gardener's boy?!_

            He felt the weight of the signet ring around his neck inside his shirt. He had tied it there on a leather cord for safekeeping. It would surely be odd to see a gardener's boy wearing such an expensive ring. Whereas it had once been a constant reminder of the burden of upholding the Malfoy name to him, it was now a comforting reminder that he did _not belong here, in this time, in this station in life. No _Malfoy_ could ever have sunk to this level before. What had happened? Lucius had always told him that the Malfoys had been rich and powerful for over eight centuries. If only he could get to Hogwarts, he could make himself known…they would know him there! Grrr….but he didn't have his wand…One thought was foremost in his mind __how to get back to the future?_

            "Gaaah!" he gasped.

            "Daydreamin' again? Yer are the worst boy on this land. If yer don't buck up I'll tan yer hide. Fanhope should nivver have taken you on. Dunno what made him take a shine to yer."

            Draco wore a sullen expression and bent over the herb patch. Over to his left, Thomas, another gardener's boy, gave him a sympathetic glance. _Peasant_! Thought Draco, enraged. _I don't need sympathy from peasants!_

            He watched as Hibbings moved away and cuffed Clifton on the head. The resentment and anger that went through Draco was so strong he yanked ferociously on the weeds in the patch as he used his bare hands to turn the soil over for "fallowing". The herb seedlings would be rooted and begin to grow next week. It was hard, back-breaking work…but he was soon absorbed in it, the furious yanking of the weeds giving vent to his anger and confusion.

            The soil had a sweet, rich smell. Draco had never been so close to the earth before. He quite enjoyed the feeling of the black dirt between his fingers. It was cool and so _sincere._ _Strange_, he thought, _I am enjoying this menial task much more than I should._

He was so absorbed in it he didn't notice the young lady watching him from a corner of the garden. The lady lifted her skirts and began to walk towards him.

            It was only when she was right next to him and her shadow fell across his work area that Draco looked up and saw her.

            In the May sunshine, the lady next to him sparkled with youthful beauty. Her thick chestnut hair was braided with pearls and wound becomingly around her head. Her gown was an expensive forest-green brocade trimmed with fine lace and it clung to all her curves gently. Her complexion was fair as snow and on her cheeks was a bloom of pink health. She smelled like lavender and sweet spice and she was now looking at him with large, shocked, toffee-coloured eyes. 

She was the loveliest thing he had seen since coming back to the past. Perhaps even the loveliest thing he had ever seen in his whole life. 

His eyes narrowed.

            "You!" he growled.


	6. Chapter 6: You Don't Belong Out Here

**Chapter 6: You Don't Belong Out Here**

            "Malfoy?" Hermione said, staring down at him in shock and relief. 

It was a strange sensation to be actually _relieved_ to see Ferret Boy, but Hermione couldn't help but feel terribly glad that at least she had one person from the future with her….ugh…even if it _was_ Ferret Boy.

Draco cast a wary glance around and saw that Hibbings and the other boys were now far away, working on the lawns. Hibbings had obviously thought to leave him the back breaking work of fallowing the whole herb garden. Draco stood up, he was a foot taller than Hermione and at least that made him feel better.

"Quite the lady of Manor now, aren't we, mudblood?" he said.

Hermione began to turn red. Malfoy was still as annoying as ever.

"Why don't you just give me break?" she said, "In case you haven't noticed, we are stuck together in the past and have bigger problems on our hands than your stupid blood prejudices."

Malfoy gave her a critical once-over and she flinched under his glance. "I must say the past suits you Granger…If I didn't know you were a mudblood, I would almost think you were pretty."

Quick as a flash, Hermione's hand shot out and slapped him across the cheek. Malfoy didn't move, but his eyes were stormy.

"Don't-call-me-a-mudblood-anymore" said Hermione through gritted teeth.

"Or what? You'll have me put in the stocks?" He said, sarcastically.

Hermione wanted to pull his hair and slap him again, but she restrained herself. 

"Look, I didn't come out here to argue. I think we should call it a truce and try to get back to our time."

Malfoy gave a short laugh. "And for that I must thank you, _M'Lady__. You and your wonderful exploding Thyme Eliminus…thanks to you, we both probably failed our Potions NEWT."_

Hermine turned white. She had completely forgotten about the importance of the Potions NEWT. "W-What? Oh my god, you are right…"

Draco gave a short laugh. "The two top Potions students in the school…getting 'Trolls' for Potions! Head Boy and Head Girl no less. That should go down into your precious _Hogwarts: A History."_

_How does he know I read that?_ wondered Hermione.

"Look do you want to talk sensibly or not? We need to find out where we are and plan how to get back. How come we are living alternate realities? What do we do now?" said Hermione after a while. Draco was staring at her in the way he used to at Hogwarts. A kind of penetrating glance, except this time, he didn't bother to hide it at all.

"It's all very well for you, Granger. But if I stand about here all day chatting with you I will get beaten by the Reeve…that fat man over there…" he pointed at Hibbings and Hermione turned to look. "…because if you haven't noticed, thanks to you, I am now a shit-shoveling _peasant_."

He sounded so angry that Hermione didn't dare to giggle, which she really wanted to, because Draco actually looked better than before as a "shit-shoveling peasant". He no longer looked like a poncy rich brat…his white linen shirt and coarse trousers suited his casual pose and lean build. He wouldn't have looked out of place in an illustrated version of_ Jack and the Beanstalk. He probably wouldn't have heard of that muggle story anyway._

"Er…okay. How about we meet after your work?"

"No can do Granger. Would you take a look at yourself? You don't belong out here, what would people say if they saw you sneaking out to mingle with peasants? Don't you know how Ladies are expected behave?" He didn't say this cruelly, just practically.

Hermione looked crestfallen. It seemed she wasn't allowed to do so many things that she had taken for granted back in her time.

"Then how will we meet?"

Draco thought for a while. "You have to get rid of those fine clothes for a start. Then sneak out. Don't you have other less flashy dresses? Or a cloak or something?"

Hermione thought hard. Yes, she had plainer clothes and a heavy grey wool cloak.

"Yes. So can I come tonight? Where shall we meet? Do you have a house somewhere?"

Draco thought of his hovel and felt embarrassed. No, he would not meet her there.

"Yes…but it's too far. Why don't we meet at the new barn? It's being built and no one ever goes near it at night I would imagine."

Hermione nodded and looked at the half-completed building where he was pointing. She began to feel excited! At last, they were going to plan how to get back to their own world! And at least, she did have _one ally in the world…even if it was Draco Malfoy._

"I'll see you at seven" she said. "The manor is deserted by then."

Draco nodded and bent down to his work. Hermione felt awkward.

"Er…bye." She said, lifting up her skirts to walk off the fallowed garden bed.

Draco didn't reply.

_That wasn't so bad_. Hermione thought. _He's still being an idiot, as usual, but at least he really wants to get back to our time as well. And I suppose it's terrible going back in time as a shit-shoveling peasant… _She grinned to herself.

**************************** 

            "Leave me" said Hermione, to her maidservants. The three ladies who had come to help her get ready for bed exchanged glances.

            "M'Lady, do you not need our assistance?" ventured one of them.

            Hermione shook her head and smiled sweetly at them. "I wish to write an important letter and I want to do it in private."

            The three maidservants curtseyed and left the room.

            Before she had come to the room, she had glanced at the clock in the Great Hall. It had said 6.45. Hermione reckoned it was sometime near seven now.

            Quickly, she threw off her outer dress of green embroidery and selected a dark grey silk gown trimmed with pearls. She put it on and fiddled with the ties and buttons down the back. Smoothing down the skirt, she walked to her enormous oak chest and took out a dark grey cloak. It was soft and woolen and fastened at the neck with a silver leaf brooch. It reminded her strongly of her Hogwarts robes and she felt a pang of homesickness. Taking a hurricane lamp which she had secreted up from the kitchens earlier from her sideboard, she lit it with a candle and closed the catch. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door of her room quietly and made her way down the deserted hallways of the manor to the kitchens.

            She was pleased to see the kitchens were empty. The servants must have all gone back to their cottages. She noticed that in these late medieval times, people stopped work at the first sign of darkness. That suited her fine. She hurried through the kitchen to the little corridor and unlatched the wooden door at the end of it. Although it was May, the night air was still chilly…she remembered what Mary had said yesterday- summer would be late this year.

            She walked as quickly as she could toward the barn. It was dark. There was a nearly full moon in the sky and she squinted to try and make out any movement near the barn. She thought she saw a movement.

            "Malfoy?" she whispered.

            It was creepy out there at night. No street lamps, no cars, just empty land for miles…

            A shadow emerged from a corner and walked towards her. She held her hurricane lamp up and was relieved to see it light up the tall figure of Draco Malfoy.

            "I'm sorry I'm late" she said.

            He shrugged. "I don't know what time it is anyway. I don't have a watch."

            "Then how come you're here?"

            "I said I would be, didn't I? So I just waited here after work…I figured you'd be along soon."

            Hermione couldn't help but have her gaze wander over him in the lamplight. His clothes were soiled with the sweat and labours of the day and he smelt like horse dung. Her eyes rested on his and they both blushed. He turned away and signaled for her to follow. _It must be so hard for him to have me see him like this_, she thought.

            There was a stack of wood in the corner and he sat down on the end of a log. She stood awkwardly before him.

            "Have a seat, I don't bite you know," Draco said, pointing to a log opposite him.

            Hermione sat down on a log and placed the hurricane lamp between them. It threw a cozy glow over everything.

            "Right, let's get down to business" said Draco, taking charge. "First question is, how do we get back to the future?"

            "No…first question should be, is this real? Are we really in the past and if so, why am I a Lady and you a peasant? Where are the people whose places we took? Don't people notice anything different about us?"

            "That's four questions. And they're not important, what's happened has happened, Granger."

            "Well, it might not be important to you, but I really want to know." She said, stubbornly.

            Draco rolled his eyes. Little miss know-it-all. "I think this _is_ real because if it wasn't, my hands wouldn't have bleeding blisters from shoveling horse manure. I have no idea why you are a lady and I a peasant…I can only assume it's because you cursed your Thyme Eliminus to play some awful trick on me. And I _don't_ know why nobody's noticed yet….maybe we look a lot like the people whose lives we're sharing. Right, can we now try and figure out how to get back to the future?"

Hermione put her face in her hands and stared into the light of the hurricane lamp. "I didn't curse the potion. It just happened. I just feel like if we understood everything properly, we'd be able to come up with a better solution." She said at last, without looking up. Draco was mesmerized by the light cast by the lamp dancing over her face. God, Granger was even more beautiful than when she was back at Hogwarts- and he had already thought her beautiful then. Her skin looked so soft in the lamplight…

            "What do you think, Malfoy?"

            "Huh?"

            "I asked you a question. I asked you if you thought time was passing in the real world as we sit here in the past."

            "Oh…er…no idea." Said Draco, looking away.

            "Why are you always staring at me?" Hermione asked suddenly.

            "What are you talking about?" Draco said, defensively.

            Hermione leaned forward, "For the last term…you've been watching me. Don't deny it Malfoy…I've seen you. Harry and Ron've noticed too. Is it what you said to me in the library? That I ruined your life because of the whole mudblood revolt thing?"

            "Just forget it okay? I don't know what you're on about." Draco said, knowing full well and wishing she hadn't brought it up.

            "I can't understand why you hate me so much. Does it really matter that I'm a muggle-born? I don't get in your way…there are other muggle-borns in Hogwarts too and you can't be bothered with them. And the revolt….I _didn't_ lead it. I helped out when Harry was in trouble with the Ministry, that's all. I know your father's in prison and your mother's not well…"

            "Shut up, Granger." said Draco in a low voice, staring at a point in the distance.

            But Hermione wouldn't stop there… "…and I'm sorry for that, I am. But your life being _ruined_? What are you talking about? You're miles ahead of Harry, Ron or me in life. You're rich, you're a pureblood, you're going to get married…"

            Draco got to his feet and started towards Hermione. She leaned back and nearly lost her balance. The look on Draco's face was so pained. He leaned in right close to her.

            "I said…._shut up." He hissed._

            But something about time-travel must have emboldened Hermione because, unlike at Hogwarts where she would have turned away from him or made some rude comment to end the conversation and have him feel bad, she got to her feet, never taking her eyes off him.

            "What are you so scared to tell me?" she said. "What is it you're hiding? Do you _really think I'm such a foul creature that even when we're all alone, five hundred years in the past, you still won't treat me like a real person?"_

            They stood, like they had yesterday morning in the library, each rigid with rage, staring at each other.

            _I will not be the first to look away, thought Hermione. In Draco's eyes, she was surprised to find sensitivity and depth, not just coldness like she had expected._

            "You will never understand," he said at last, and dropped his gaze. Hermione felt like they had crossed a threshold, but she didn't know what path to take beyond it.

            He turned and kicked the woodpile behind him.

            "How do you know I won't?" she said quietly.

            "When I think you can understand, I'll talk to you." he said at last. That was so much like Malfoy, always insisting on his own terms.

            Hermione sat down again and wrapped her cloak around her. Wasn't Malfoy cold in that outfit? She wondered if he owned a warm coat.

            "Malfoy….let's get back to discussing the plan to get back to the future."

            But Draco shook his head. He was looking at the stars outside.

            "Why don't we talk another day?" he said.

            Hermione got up and joined him looking up at the stars. It was like they were back in Hogwarts, in Astronomy class.

            "Vega" they both said at the same time, and stared at each other.

            Hermione wanted to smile at him, he looked so troubled. She was a kind girl at heart, and a fair one. Nasty as he was, he was clearly going through something difficult at this point in his life. But she didn't know if it was the right thing to do, so she didn't smile.

            "Can I keep the lamp?" asked Draco.

            Hermione thought of the long, dark journey back to the castle. Fortunately, the moon was nearly full and she could just about make her way back. She thought of Draco's cottage being far away and all that distance across the fields…

            "Sure" she said.

            "We'll meet here tomorrow then, Granger" he said. "Try to think of a plan, all right?"

            She nodded.

            "I'll walk you as near as I dare," he said. Hermione looked surprised. "It's dangerous out here at night, don't want you dead or anything" he said quickly.

            Awkwardly, the two of them headed back towards the castle. Hermione felt so odd to have Draco helping her do something that she focused all her attention on her shoes. It was dark outside, and very quiet. She was actually very glad to have him walk with her.

            When Hermione turned around to thank him, Draco was gone.

**A/N**

**To all my readers, thank you so much for your reviews! As you will have noticed from The Blood of The Dragon, I don't really have the habit of listing and thanking all my reviewers…It takes too much valuable time…time which could be spent WRITING! I am truly grateful to you all, your comments are terribly encouraging and useful. I will repay you all in the best way I can…by faithfully updating! Have a great weekend.**


	7. Chapter 7: Five Points To Gryffindor

**A/N: Yes, there were clocks around 1485 but they were rare and situated only in castles or cathedrals. Watches were not invented till around 1510. You can look up history of clocks on the net for more info. Who says fanfiction isn't educational? *grins***

**Chapter 7: Five Points To Gryffindor**

            "May we have a word with you about the visit, daughter?" said Lord Granger, after breakfast.

            "Yes, father." said Hermione. Her father had just told the assembled breakfast table about Lord Camvile's visit. She wondered what her parents could have to say to her in private.

            The family went into a side room which her father treated as his study.

            Her mother held her hand. Lord Granger looked sternly at his daughter- he looked so much like her own father in the future that she felt quite at ease with him. But Hermione was beginning to notice slight differences in the physical appearance of her mother and father that assured her they were different from her future parents. For example, Lady Granger had tiny feet, whereas her mother in the future had size 10 feet. Lord Granger had a larger nose than her future father.

            "Yes father?" she asked politely.

            "Sweeting," said her mother, petting her hand, "Your father and I don't want to be hard on you but…" her mother glanced at her husband.

            "Hermione, daughter," he said gently, "This will be the seventh suitor we have visiting…"

            "Suitor?" Hermione exclaimed in shock.

            "Sweeting?" her mother looked surprised. "Are you all right?"

            Hermione held her tongue. She supposed that she was expected to remember the other six suitors who had come previously.

            "Yes, mother. Of course."

            "Ahem…this is the seventh suitor who has asked to visit…I ask that you consider him seriously, and treat him with respect. Not like…ahem…Lord Mannerly. I'm sure you remember."

            Hermione's mother turned red. Hermione had the good sense to hang her head. She wondered what she had done to Lord Mannerly?

            "Or like you did with Baron De Labeche." said her mother, softly, shaking her head.

"You are no longer young. Most others of your age are already holding their first babies on their laps. We have been soft with you- we did not want to force you into anything. We did not see the need for an arranged marriage- you are so beautiful, Hermione, that the best suitors have been lining up for your hand. Any of those previous Lords and Barons would have made the Granger name even more powerful…So, do not abuse our trust in you. Choose soon, consider seriously Lord Camvile. His estate is large, his purse is heavy."

            This was the longest speech her father had given her since she had appeared in this time. Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes father. I will treat Lord Camvile with utmost consideration."

            Her mother beamed. "I have already asked Mary to lay out your best dresses and finest jewels. You will shine like a star when Lord Camvile is here. I am sure you two will find each other's company most charming. A marriage with the Camviles will be extremely advantageous."

            "Thank you mother," said Hermione, having no intention whatsoever of _ever considering marriage to any Lord or Baron, however rich or powerful they were. God, she had to get back to Hogwarts __quick!_

            "Excellent, daughter." said her father. "Lord Camvile will be here at an hour past noon, see that you wear your finest clothes for him at midday."

            Wear her finest clothes for some strange man?!

            "Yes father" said Hermione meekly.

            Her mother took her by the hand and led her to her room.

****************************************** 

            Draco stood near the end of a long line of servants. He was so far down the line that he could not see clearly what was going on at the head of the line where the Granger family stood to welcome Lord Camvile. The other stable-hands and gardener's boys stood around him- all were exhausted with the preparations for the Lord's visit. Hibbings had gone to join the bailiff and steward near the head of the line.

            Draco suddenly realized that he was craning his neck, looking for someone. There were a few well-dressed ladies near the head of the line…they were gathered in a tight group, talking quietly. He watched intently as they eventually split up and stood in a straight row. There she was.

            She was even more beautiful by today's sunlight than by yesterday's lamplight. Today she wore a light blue gown, with white ribbons in her hair. She looked girlish and sweet and she was smiling. The sun glinted off the natural gold highlights in her chestnut hair. 

Really, one would never have known she was a mudblood, thought Draco. She had every appearance of fine-breeding and aristocracy- as she already had when back in Hogwarts. Added to the fact that she was the most powerful witch he knew…it seemed an insult to all of Draco's beliefs that a _mudblood_ could so naturally display all the qualities most coveted by the pureblood families.

 "Bow" said someone by his side.

He noticed all the other servants beginning to lower their heads. It was not in a Malfoy's instinct to bow to another and Draco couldn't bring himself to lower his head more than just a tiniest fraction of an inch. It was this that allowed him to see the carriage of Lord Camvile drive past and halt in front of the Granger family.

Servants rushed to open the doors and finally, the long awaited Lord stepped out into the compound of the manor. There was some talking and movement at the head of the line but Draco was too far away to see for certain what was going on. The last thing he saw before they were dismissed was Hermione and Lord Camvile entering the manor side by side. They were smiling at each other.

            _Smiling_ at each other. Draco hammered another nail into the side of the new barn. Smiling. He hammered yet another nail into the wall.

            "Ye be nifty wit the hammer" said Thomas, who was sawing planks of wood next to him.

            Draco nodded and expertly placed another nail an equal distance between the two already hammered in and whacked it in. Once he had been shown what to do, work on the barn wasn't that hard. He certainly preferred it to cleaning out the stables. And Thomas was quite good company- even though he was a peasant. He was kind and simple, and he had shared his lunch the day before with Draco when the latter had been hungry.

            Draco couldn't believe he was making friends with peasants. Could it be they were not the low-life he had always thought they were?

            "Ye don't talk much" said Thomas, sawing away.

            Draco shook his head. With each swipe of the hammer, he wondered what Hermione and Lord Camvile might be doing together in the castle. Would she be thinking of a plan? Did she even remember he existed?

            "That's all right. Yer ain't like some other boys there've been- all talk and no work. I like yer" Thomas grinned at him.

            Draco stopped his hammering and turned around to face Thomas. 

            "Thank ye" Draco said.

            And from that moment on, they were friends.

            A few hours later, Draco wiped the sweat from his brow and splashed water on his face from the common pump. The sun was setting.

            "I live in the village yonder," said Thomas, pointing to the West "Would ye like to visit? Mam nivver minded afore and there is always broth on the fire."

            Draco shook his head. "Not this night, Thomas. Thank ye."

            Thomas waved goodbye and started across the fields along a well-worn path. Draco watched all the other boys and servants begin the trek home. His stomach growled because there was never enough food and work was hard. Quietly, he settled himself in a corner of the new barn and leaned back, waiting.

            He hoped Hermione wouldn't be too _busy_ with Lord Camvile to meet him tonight. Did she enjoy his company very much? He had seen them together in the inner compound a few times earlier in the day. She had not cast a single glance to the outer compound and seemed completely absorbed in whatever Camvile was saying.

As life on the manor slowed down with the setting of the sun, Draco drowsed in the smell of the earth and the new wood of the barn. As his eyes began to close, his last thoughts were of the sun glinting off chestnut hair.

****************************************** 

            Hermione peered into the darkness.

"Malfoy" she whispered, holding up her newly acquired hurricane lamp. The shadows it cast on the walls loomed large and ominous. She was even later than she had been the night before because the feast held in honour of Lord Camvile's visit had gone on longer than expected.

"Malfoy"

She heard a rustling in the corner. Nervously, she approached the stack of logs and planks. "Is that you?"

The lamp cast a glow upon the figure of a man sleeping against a pile of logs. He had messy blonde hair and very fine, strong features. It was like a veil had been lifted from her eyes. Could it be possible that she was at last seeing what Lavender, Parvati and all the other giggling Gryffindor girls had been trying in vain to tell her?

"Wake up!" she knelt down and shook him. "Hey, wake up."

            Draco slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Hermione smiling at him. Smiling? He couldn't be sure what he had seen because in a second she had turned away to settle herself on a pile of logs opposite him. He stretched and sat up.

            "You're late," he said, crossly.

            Hermione looked contrite. "Sorry, the welcome feast went on longer than I expected and I just couldn't get away. I was Lord Camvile's escort for the night and he had so much to say to me."

            "I'll bet he did," Draco said dryly.

            "What do you mean by that?"

            Draco smirked. "You're the lady of the manor now, you know. Wealthy and all that. Who wouldn't want to talk to you _now_, Granger. "

            "Get over it, Malfoy" Hermione said tiredly. "I didn't ask to come back like this, you know. I don't know why this happened, but as long as it has, can't you just grow up and help us get back to Hogwarts? I thought we had a truce."

            "Well, I was seriously considering a truce until dear Lord Camvile came and took up all your time…while you were feasting in the Great Hall, I was sitting out here with the rats and woodlice."

            "Oh come off it. You were sleeping like a baby. And I've not seen a single rat on this manor yet."

            "I bet you haven't even been thinking of a plan to help us." Draco said sourly.

            Hermione began to feel the familiar urge to slap Ferret Boy again but she had learnt that the best way to deal with Draco was never to rise to his challenges. "Why are you so worked up? I said I was sorry I was late…and anyway, I _have_ been thinking of a plan. I've thought of one that might work."

            "So have I."

            "Well what's yours?"

            "I asked you first Granger."

            "Stop being so childish!" she said, her voice rising. "What's wrong with you tonight? You were much more…_sensible_ last night! I really thought we could work together."

            "And I thought you were serious about getting back! Not mucking around with feasts and Lord Camviles!"

            "I wasn't!"

            "I saw you! All afternoon, swanning around the inner compound, staring into each other's eyes…"

            "Were you watching me again, freak?!"

            "Not like I had to try hard to…strutting around all afternoon with him…"

            "I promised my parents I would be a good host, all right? What's your problem? I told you I thought of a plan!"

            "Well, it makes me sick to…" Draco caught himself mid-sentence and choked.

            "Sick to what?" Hermione said. She tossed her carefully set hair back and by the glow of the lamp, her eyes flashed angrily.

            "…sick to see you living it up while I'm out here dying by inches. I'm filthy, I'm exhausted and, I'm starving too okay? So don't you talk to me about _feasts!"_

            "Oh!" Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew wide. "Oh Malfoy! I- I'm sorry. I didn't realize how insensitive I must have sounded. I didn't know you were _hungry."_

            "Well, I am. No need to feel sorry for me, you probably feel I _deserve it." He said bitterly._

            Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No I don't. I think it's disgraceful how they treat servants around here. I know you are worked too hard for too little pay…but I didn't know they don't _feed_ you. I wish I could do something about it…maybe if I spoke to my father…"

            "Don't get all SPEW on me, Granger" Draco said. "There's nothing you can do. This is the way it's been for centuries. You're only a woman, they'll never listen to you. And if Lord Granger started treating servants better, he wouldn't be respected in his circles. He knows it too, so you can give up all these wonderful plans."

            Hermione still looked upset. Malfoy was secretly impressed about her social conscience. It was a concept that had been alien to him…until now.

            "I'm not _that hungry." He said at last. "According to history books, I should live to the ripe old age of 30 at least."_

            Hermione knew Malfoy was trying to make a joke, and she smiled weakly.

            "Malfoy?"

            "What?"

            "How come every time we meet to plan our way back, we quarrel?"

            "Because we hate each other?"

            "Good reason." Hermione sighed. "But it makes it awfully difficult to discuss anything properly. I don't know about you but I really really really want to get back to our time."

            "So do I. You should try the food they feed us here. Makes you want to get out of this century real quick."

            "Well, then why don't we just try and get along? Then we can both go back to where we belong and you can go back to being a rich pureblood and I can go back to being nice, plain, Hermione Granger."

            "Cut out the 'nice' bit and it sounds do-able."

            "There you go again…"

            Draco threw his hands up in a mock gesture of defeat. "Ok, ok. I was wrong. I was a brat to keep quarrelling with Hermione Granger. I promise to co-operate from now on. Well...I promise to _try to co-operate. So what's your plan?"_

            Hermione smoothed down the wrinkles in her grey silk dress. She now thought of it as her "sneaking out at night" dress. "Weeell, we don't have wands…so the only way we can get back is to either get help from other magical people or, do the only 'magical' thing that we don't need wands for which is…"

            "…brrew a Reverse Thyme Eliminus potion" Draco concluded for her.

            She nodded.

            "That was the only thing I could think of as well" he said. "I don't think it's a good idea to go looking for other magical people. If anyone here realizes we're a witch and wizard, they'll grill us like pork chops. And without wands, we can't do a vanishing charm when we're roasting on the spit."

            "Yes. Exactly. So our only option is to brew a Reverse Thyme Eliminus of the _exact_ potency to take us back to 2005. I'm not sure how accurate we can make it, but I have a pretty good idea that by varying the critical ingredient I can make it accurate enough to take us back to that year at least."

            She sounded so much like she did when answering a professor's question in class that Draco thought he was back in Hogwarts.

            "Five points to Gryffindor." He said.

            Hermione ignored him and continued. "And lucky for us, I remember all the ingredients necessary to make a Reverse Thyme Eliminus. In fact, I've written them all down on this piece of parchment."

            She took out a slip of paper from inside her shoe.

            Draco was impressed. She really had given this more thought than he imagined. Maybe her mind _hadn't_ been on Lord Camvile the whole day.

            "Let's see" he said, taking it from her.

            On the parchment, in Hermione's neat hand, was written:

_R.T.E_

_1 dove feather_

_1 pinch fernseed (litha)_

_fistful__ ash of heather, mullein, patchouli, and sage (samhain)_

_fresh__ thyme (CI)_

            Draco was impressed. Being good at Potions himself, he knew immediately that the ingredients were correct. They were the same ingredients as for the normal Thyme Eliminus potion but with the critical ingredient "reversed" to produce the _reverse effect. Every potion had a critical ingredient which guaranteed its desired effect. To reverse that effect, one had to know how to "reverse" the critical ingredient. For example, in Veritaserum, the CI was a shaving from a key. To brew a reverse Veritaserum, the CI would be a shaving from a lock._

            "Five more points to Gryffindor" he said, looking up. At least he wasn't stuck in the past with Neville Longbottom. "And lucky for you, we have a herb patch with all these herbs. Well, at least all except the fernseed. But I'm sure I can find it growing somewhere. There's plenty of woodland about. And the dove feather- we'll find it somehow. This potion's our best bet."

            Although Malfoy was beginning to become enthusiastic, Hermione wore a worried expression. "But Malfoy, don't you see what's wrong with our idea?"

            Malfoy shook his head. "What's the problem? These are pretty common herbs. I told you I think we have all of them."

            "Litha, Malfoy! Samhain! Don't these things mean anything to you?"

            "Er…midsummer's eve? Halloween? I _did_ go to Hogwarts and study magic you know. I _know_ what Litha and Samhain are."

            Hermione made an impatient gesture with her hands. "But Malfoy! Those days are MONTHS away! That means we'll be stuck here till after October 31st!"

            Malfoy put the paper away in his boot and shrugged. "Too bad I guess."

            "Too bad? That's all you have to say?"

            Malfoy yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Relax Granger. What've you got to worry about? You've got fine robes, a huge manor, a rich father…I know how great all that is. I lived like that most of my life. Trust me, you'll survive till November. Maybe you won't even want to leave."

            "Oh I'll want to leave all right," said Hermione, giving a fierce tug to her dress. "I have to do embroidery everyday, I can't speak at the dining table, I can't go out of this damned castle, and I must do exactly as my father and his steward says…ALL THE TIME!"

            "Steady on…"

            "And worst of all, these gowns may be pretty but they are totally uncomfortable! What I wouldn't give for my jeans…"

            "Poor little rich girl" drawled Malfoy.

            "_You try wearing these ridiculous layers of clothes and corsets!"_

            "I don't have such tendencies, thanks very much."

            Hermione gathered her skirts about her and stood up grandly. "I think this conversation is at an end, good night."

            Malfoy couldn't help thinking about the word _corsets. Grinning, he reached behind him for something and got to his feet. She saw that he had taken the hurricane lamp she had given him last night out from a hiding place._

            "Got a light?" he asked, holding the lamp out to her. Using a piece of straw, they managed to transfer the flame from her lamp to his quite easily. Soon, the barn was lit with the light of two lamps.

            "I'm off now" she said, and turned away.

            "Wait."

            Hermione stopped.

            "I'll walk you back."

            "I have a lamp tonight"

            "I know, but ladies really shouldn't walk alone at night."

            Hermione was stunned. Malfoy actually had some decency! Who would have known?

            He walked beside her as they headed back for the castle. She no longer felt as awkward as last night and sneaked a look at him. He was very tall and his silvery-blonde hair hung messily around his face. Malfoy was concentrating on the ground, steering both of them away from patches of horse dung and mud. _Had he done that last night as well?_ She didn't look where she was going and felt him grasp her arm firmly and move her gently to the left, away from a pothole. _Either he's really changed or this is some new side of Malfoy I never knew existed._

            They stopped about thirty yards from the side door. This time, Malfoy didn't slip away like he had the night before.

            "Thanks." Hermione managed to say. It was definitely the first time in her entire life that she had thanked him.

            Malfoy had hidden the glow of his lamp behind a rag so she couldn't see his face clearly. She heard him say rather stiffly, "Now we've got a plan, there's no real need to meet again, at least, not till midsummer."

            He was right, of course. But somehow the thought of not seeing her only connection to the future world for a whole month seemed terrifying. There was a tense silence between them.

            "Would you like that?" she asked at last, hoping for him to give her the answer she wanted, and yet, trying to tell herself it didn't matter whatever he said.

            "It's up to you."

            That wasn't the answer she had been hoping for, but it wasn't the worst thing he could have said either. Damnnit! He was forcing her into a corner! The longer this went on, the more she felt like blurting out that she actually found his company a source of comfort to her in this strange world. She took a deep breath.

            "Fine. Well, I think we shouldn't completely lose contact. We're…er…kind of allies now you know. It's more practical to keep contact."

            "I thought it was a good idea to keep in touch too."

            "Then why didn't you say so, idiot?"

            "You always used to prefer to see as little of me as possible."

            "Well I do, still. I only said it was practical to keep in touch."

            "When can I see you again?" 

            "Not until after Lord Camvile's visit in six days, I think. It isn't safe. There're festivities on every night and I'm expected to be there."

            There was another short silence.

            "D'you enjoy his company that much?" Draco tried to sound sneering about it but Hermione picked up a note of nervousness in his voice. Why did he have such a bee in his bonnet about this visit anyway?

            "Well actually, Malfoy. I don't. Camvile is an overprivileged, narrow-minded, snob. If my father hadn't ordered me to be nice to him, I'd put a _furnunculus on him. Wish I had my wand."_

            Again, it was too dark to read his expression, but she thought he sounded cheerful when he said, "I'll see you next Thursday. Same time and place." He turned away and halted. "Don't be late."

            She hadn't done anything strenuous that night, but as Hermione slipped into the side door, she found that her heart was beating unnaturally fast and her face and hands were hot. She had never felt like that before.

            It felt nice. 


	8. Chapter 8: Open This Gate

            Harry, Ron and Blaise stood gloomily in Professor Dumbledore's office. Their trunks had already been sent off to Hogsmeade. It was the last day of their lives as Hogwarts students, and they had never imagined it would be as sorrowful as this.

            Dumbledore was speaking to Blaise.

            "…have tried to delay that line of action for as long as possible but as there is no sign of Mr Malfoy's expedient return, I see no choice but to inform your parents, Miss Zabini. It is only fair to you and your family that you prepare yourselves for a delayed wedding. I still have faith that Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger will return to us. As I told you all before, a Reverse Thyme Eliminus is not beyond their abilities to concoct independently or together. It's just a little uncertain when they will appear. It could be today, it could be next week, it could be next year."

            Blaise didn't look too upset, thought Harry. The dark haired girl nodded in agreement and gave a small smile. "I will give my parents the letter" she said, taking it from the headmaster and putting into her cloak pocket.

            Dumbledore turned to Ron and Harry.

            "As for you two, I know what a dear friend Miss Granger is to you. Do not worry, she is one of the smartest witches around and is perfectly capable of looking after herself. I have no doubt she will return to us eventually. Worse things have happened. I must ask you not to put your lives on hold waiting for her. You have to live your lives fully and meaningfully."

            Harry and Ron nodded. Both missed their friend greatly.

            "I have a suggestion that may help all three of you." Dumbledore said kindly. "In these type of situations, it helps if everyone affected gives each other their full support and encouragement. I suggest that you three write to each other often and perhaps even meet up to cheer each other up. I understand that you, Harry, and Miss Zabini are going to be working for the Ministry… Mr Weasley, you have been offered a sports scholarship with the English Quidditch League here in England…so there is no reason why keeping in touch should be a problem for you three."

            Harry, Ron and Blaise looked at each other and smiled. In the past week, the two boys had already grown closer to Blaise than they ever had in all seven years of Hogwarts. Though not as clever and interesting as Hermione, Blaise was still good company. She was kind and modest, and a good listener.

            "Professor, I think we already agreed to do that." said Harry.

            "Yeah," said Ron, "We're definitely keeping in touch with each other."

            Dumbledore nodded in approval.

            "I will keep in touch with you three as well, giving you any news I have of their return. They are likely to reappear in the exact place they would have been in this life if they had _not_ disappeared. So it is likely Miss Granger will appear in St Mungo's where I know she has been accepted for a Mediwizard course, and Mr Malfoy will appear in Malfoy Manor."

            "Let us know immediately, Professor" said Ron.

            "Yes," added Blaise, "My parents will be very concerned. The wedding has been planned in great detail already."

            Dumbledore smiled at them and showed them out of his office. "Of course, of course. And don't forget the lessons you have learned in Hogwarts- and I don't mean just for the examinations either!"

            After they left his office, the three students exchanged addresses and promised to write.

            "Thanks, you guys" said Blaise, smiling shyly. "Everyone in Slytherin always said how awful you were, but you're both really, really nice. I mean, last week when I was so worried about Draco and my wedding and my parents and everything, I was really glad that you were always there for me."

            "Hey, no problem. You were great too." said Harry, grinning.

            Blaise hugged both of them and went off to join her Slytherin friends.

            "Come on, let's go look for Ginny. I bought her the chocolate frogs she wanted for the train journey." Harry beamed as he thought of a certain red-haired witch he knew. She always managed to put a thrill in his heart. Ron had been ecstatic to learn of the relationship and was glad to think that one day, his best friend might be his brother-in-law.

            "Ok, I also bought some cream buns. They're Seamus' favourites."

            Harry and Ron walked off to look for a carriage to take them to Hogsmeade. The sight of Thestrals no longer unnerved Harry, he had been able to see them for years.

            "Bye Hogwarts." Harry whispered. He and Ron had already made their rounds of the castle yesterday, saying goodbye to all their favourite places in the huge castle they had thought of as home for the last seven years. From tomorrow onwards, they would no longer be students. What would life be like in the future when he started Auror training at the ministry? As the carriage rolled out of the main gate, Harry felt himself shed the cage of the years of the past, the terrors of Voldemort, the battles with Malfoy, the trials with Snape…as he looked with hopeful eyes to the future.

            Beside him, Ron was already talking about the English Quidditch League.

            "…and they've got a great exchange programme. I'm going to Blugaria in August and next year I'm going to Switzerland. I've got all this great new gear…wait'll you see it, Harry. Mum wouldn't let me take it to Hogwarts so it's still in the Burrow. Wish Hermione was here to see it."

            At the mention of her name, both boys exchanged looks.

            "I miss Hermione," said Harry, simply. He had said it every day for the last week and the feeling never changed.

            "Me too." Ron agreed, sighing.

            "Pity she had to go back with Malfoy, and not one of us" Harry said.

            "Yeah, makes it worse really. He probably won't want to co-operate with her, what with his stupid pureblood obsession."

            Harry agreed. "Do you believe what Snape said, that they went back in time together? Or are they are separate points in time?"

            "Dunno." Ron shrugged. "I bet Hermione would have preferred to be alone though. What could be worse than being stuck somewhere withthat jumped-up little ferret!"

            "Snape analyzed the potion and said that he didn't know what she had done to it but that unlike other Thyme Eliminuses, this one was time-specific. It would have brought them back to the same point in time, whatever amount splashed on them. Dunno what she did…must be that headache she had earlier. She's never mucked up a potion before."

            "Well," Ron said darkly, "I hope those historical people do us all a favour and knock some sense into Malfoy before he returns to our time."

************************************************* 

            After that evening, she hadn't seen Malfoy for five days. During that time, she found her thoughts constantly wandering back to their conversations in the barn. She could remember everything in great detail- the dance of the lamp light on the walls, his low voice, the way Malfoy walked with such self-assurance…She frequently escaped into these memories while Lord Camvile was at her side, which was nearly all the time.

She knew Lord Camvile had asked her father for her hand in marriage but her father told her that she could make up her mind for herself. His only wish was that she consider Lord Camvile seriously, and treat him with respect.

            Lord Camvile was always chatting incessantly about one thing or another…he fancied himself rather the orator. If he wasn't speaking at length on politics and religion, he was yammering on about how wealthy he was. He loved talking about his wealth. He could go for a full hour describing how he had doubled his land size in the last five years through various cunning methods. It bored Hermione to tears but she had the self control to smile sweetly at him and agree with everything. She had learned that she was not allowed to disagree with anything he said, the first and only time she had tried it, he had complained to her father about her unlady-like behaviour.

            The only times she managed to escape from Lord Camvile's company was when he went out with her father. It was during one of these occasions when she was alone that Hermione next encountered Draco Malfoy. On Wednesday afternoon, Lord Camvile and her father had gone hunting (a sport she detested) and she was walking with her mother back from chapel when she heard shouts from the outer compound.

            The two ladies, along with their maidservants, hurried over to the iron gate.

            "Mother, what is going on?" asked Hermione. Her mother usually knew everything that went on around the manor. But today, her mother shook her head and replied that she didn't know.

            Both ladies peered through the gate and Hermione could make out, by the side of one of the wells, a large group of gathered men. Somebody was shouting and another person was yelling something else. She saw her father's horses being held by page boys over to the left of the scene. That meant that the men had returned from the hunt, but what was the problem?

            "Fanhope! Fanhope!" she shouted, seeing a familiar face in the crowd.

            The maidservants murmured and her mother chided her, "Hermione, you forget yourself. Ladies do not raise their voices."

            Hermione lowered her eyes. Yet another "ladies do not" she had to remember.

            But she had accomplished what she wanted to do because Fanhope came hurrying over. He wore a worried expression on his face.

            "What is going on out there?" asked Hermione impatiently.

            Hermione heard the unmistakeable crack of a whip.

            Fanhope bowed to the ladies behind the gate, saying "'Tis a flogging, M'ladies. Nothing of concern to you."

            "A flogging?" asked Hermione, her eyes growing wide. She had never been this close to medieval punishments before. Images of thick whips slashing down onto split flesh filled her mind.

            "Come along, Hermione. Let us return to our sewing" said her mother, looking nervously at Hermione. "You know you should leave your father to manage the servants his way."

            But Hermione was disgusted by any form of corporal punishment and could not let the matter rest there. "Who is being flogged?"

            "A gardener's boy, M'lady."

            Hermione had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew there were about ten different gardener's boys employed on the estate, but somehow, she felt she knew exactly who was being flogged. 

            "Is it Malfoy?" she asked, regretting immediately the words as they came out because her mother looked disapproving.

            "Hermione!" exclaimed her mother. "How do you know their names?

            Fanhope looked surprised. "Why yes, M'Lady. Is he known to you?"

She couldn't let something that brutal happen to Malfoy, whatever differences they had had in the past, he didn't deserve such pain.

            "Open this gate for me!" she said to Fanhope.

            "M'Lady?" Fanhope looked uncertainly at Hermione's mother who looked aghast at her daughter's request.

            "Hermione, this is very … unnecessary." her mother said

            "Open this gate!" shouted Hermione, grabbing the bars of the gate and rattling it as hard as she could.

            Several of the gathered crowd heard her and turned around.

            The maidservants gasped and covered their mouths.

            The whip cracked again and she thought she could hear a moan.

            "Open this gate! OPEN IT NOW!"

            "Hermione…"

            Fanhope stared desperately at his mistress apparently going crazy behind the gate.

            "HOY! YOU THERE! STOP THE FLOGGING. STOP IT!" Hermione was yelling now.

            "Fanhope, open the gate!" said Hermione's mother weakly.

            The crowd gathered around the flogging had all turned round at the lady's screams. Fanhope quickly took out a key and unlocked the gate. Hermione gathered her skirts around her and ran forward into the outer compound. She recognized faces among the group of men. Her father was there, looking shocked. Lord Camvile was there, looking very smug. Hibbings was there, holding a thick leather whip. And on the ground, in front of all of them…

            "STOP THIS NOW!" Hermione shouted.

            "Hermione, I have told you before that you are not to interfere with my management of the servants" said her father, sternly.

            "THIS IS BARBARIC!" Hermione tried not to look at the mass of bloody welts on Draco's back.

            "The lady has strong views" murmured Lord Camvile.

            Her mother put her arm around Hermione's shoulders and tried to soothe her, "Daughter, you must let your father manage his servants. We have had this argument about flogging before."

            Hermione was livid. She could never abide violence. "What has he done to deserve this…this… brutality?"

            "This boy is a thief!" said Hibbings, flexing the hand that held the whip.

            "What did he steal? Where is your proof?"

            "He stole my ring" said Lord Camvile righteously, holding up a hand to her. "I dropped it in the compound yesterday and today, I saw it hanging out of this boy's shirt."

            "It…is…mine…you…liar…" said Draco weakly.

            Hermione looked at the ring Lord Camvile was holding up before her. On his middle finger was a large gold ring, set with emeralds. It had the letter "M" on it entwined with a snake and a dragon. Hermione gave a sharp cry.

            "That is _my ring!" she said loudly. "I gave it to this peasant boy last week to sell. I took pity on his filthy condition."_

            There was gasp from the crowd followed by a silence so thick it rung in her ears.

            Lord Camvile turned red. "She does not speak truly." he said.

            "Are you calling my daughter a liar?" asked Lord Granger, quietly.

            Lord Camvile looked sulky.

            "How came you by this ring, daughter? I do not remember such a one in our treasury."

            "It was a trifle presented to me by Lord Mannerly," Hermione answered smoothly. "See, it bears his initial. But as you know I do not favour Lord Mannerly, and I did not wish to keep this bauble any longer."

            "M'Lady speaks true" said a voice. All heards turned in its direction. "I've seen Malfoy a-wearin' of it last week. I tried to tell ye, but ye would not listen, sire." It was young Thomas.

            "If my daughter gave it to you to sell, why didn't you sell it boy? Speak up."

            Malfoy racked his brains for a suitable answer but Thomas, once allowed to speak, seemed to be on a roll. "If ye please, sire. The fayre do not come till August. He must-a be a-keepin' it to sell then."

            "Give it back to him." demanded Hermione, glaring at Lord Camvile. Lord Camvile stared at the hostile faces around him and snatched the ring of his finger. He flung it at Malfoy and swung away.

            "You apologise to him, you liar!" shouted Hermione, grabbing his tunic and making him stumble.

            Her mother gave a little cry and covered her eyes. The servants guffawed. Fanhope and Audley exhchanged glances.

            "Hermione!" warned her father.

            "M'Lady, there is no need…" said Malfoy from the ground, wincing in pain. He felt like his whole back was on fire. _Shut up, Granger.__ You're saying too much…_

            "I should have _you_ flogged for lying! _You are the thief, not this boy!"_

            "That is ENOUGH!" roared Hermione's father.

            The servants hooted with laughter. Lord Camvile looked like he had eaten something nasty and was going to spit it out. He flung off Hermione's hand and stormed into the inner compound.

            "Prepare his horses" said Hermione's father to Hibbings. "He leaves in an hour. I will not have him one more night under my roof."

            "Give this boy three days off," her father said to Fanhope. He opened his purse and threw a silver coin down to Draco.

            "And Hermione," her father sounded irritated and tired, "I will speak to you after supper tonight. Go."

            "But father…"

            "GO."

            Hermione was simmering with rage. How could Lord Camvile get away with it! 

Hermione's mother quietly led her off, mentally canceling off another chance at marriage for her daughter. Lady Granger feared where her daughter's unruly nature would eventually land herself, and her family.


	9. Chapter 9: Salve

**Chapter 9: Salve**

            The next afternoon, Hermione lay on her enormous four-poster bed, kicking one post with a stockinged foot. Her oldest maidservant, Mary, sat darning a petticoat by her side.

            "M'Lady…" scolded Mary gently, "If your mother saw you…"

            "Bummer" said Hermione.

            "What is this 'bummer'  m'lady?" Mary looked surprised. Her mistress' vocabulary had in the last two weeks become strange and foreign. It must be all those books Lord Granger let his daughter read. Everyone knew that ladies should only read scripture but Lord Granger was indulgent, and handed his daughter great volumes of poetry, philosophy and science.

            Hermione gave the bed post another kick. She was reflecting on her father's scolding yesterday evening. Lord Granger had severely reprimanded his daughter for her shameful outburst at Lord Camvile…

            "But father, he was a deceitful wretch!"

            "He may be but that does not give you leave to shame him in front of all our servants."

            "But father…"

            "And when will you learn, daughter, that ladies do not shout in that unladylike manner. It is most unbecoming."

            Hermione pouted.

            Her father sighed and ran his fingers through his whitening hair. It was an action so much like her future father that Hermione got a sudden strong wave of déjà vu.

            "Daughter, I cannot have you tossing all these suitors aside one after another. You must choose soon or you will be too old to marry. The Granger name will be doomed."

            "I will choose soon father," lied Hermione. "But Lord Camvile was a complete prat."

            "You see, it is such language that will get you in trouble. You must learn your place." Her father wrung his hands in distress. "I will speak to Father Lorenzo about setting you scribe work. It will be good for you to reflect on scripture for at least two hours every day."

            And that was how, that morning, Hermione had found herself in the company of Father Lorenzo laboriously copying various biblical passages her father had chosen for her to study. Of all the passages she had copied out, one stuck out in her mind… _"Ephesians 5:22-24…mulieres viris suis subditae sint sicut Domino. Quoniam vir caput est mulieris sicut Christus caput est ecclesiae ipse salvator corporis sed ut ecclesia subiecta est Christo ita et mulieres viris suis in omnibus…"_

            Aaaargh! The bible was obviously written by men!

            She gave her bedpost another kick. She would have to spend every morning of the next month memorizing more of such passages. Her father had told her he would test her when he and her mother returned next month from a visit to Lancashire.

            Hermione sat up in bed and Mary looked up at her in surprise over her sewing.

            "What day is this, Mary?"

            "Thursday, M'Lady."

            Thursday! This was the evening which she had agreed to meet Malfoy in the barn. But of course, Malfoy was not up to going anywhere for a while. Her father had seen fit to give him three days paid leave, and, remembering the ugly mass of bleeding cuts on his back, she hardly thought it was enough. She felt a sudden inexplicable urge to see how he was.

            Hermione put on her shoes and straightened her dress.

            "Going somewhere, M'lady?"

            "I'm going to take a walk in the gardens."

            Mary put aside her sewing but Hermione stopped her.

            "No, Mary dear. You finish your sewing, I would like some time alone to reflect on the scripture my father set me this morning."

            Mary nodded approvingly. "As you wish." She picked up her sewing as Hermione left the room.

            Hermione skipped along the increasingly familiar corridors of the huge manor. She was beginning to get the feeling that she had lived here all her life. She skipped and hummed, heading towards the inner compound and gardens. It had been a long time since she skipped anywhere. But she felt so lighthearted now that Lord Camvile had been packed off and her parents had left for a visit to Lancashire.

            Audley and Fanhope were in charge of the manor now, but Hermione wasn't afraid of them at all. She discovered that all she had to do was smile sweetly at them and they would fall over themselves to please her. If only it had been so easy for ladies to get their own way with boys back at Hogwarts…wait a minute, perhaps it had. She as she thought of Harry going all ga-ga over Cho Chang in the fifth. And Hannah Abbott only had to _glance at Justin Finch Fletchley to have him panting at her heels._

            Maybe some things didn't change.

            Her footsteps brought her out into the sunshine of a late May day. In the last week, the weather had taken a turn for the better and she could now feel the promise of summer in the warm afternoon air. Some of the early summer flowers were beginning to bud in the flowerbeds and Hermione was glad to see that there were rose-bushes- they were her favourite flowers.

            She went across to the kitchens where once again the servants looked surprised and uncomfortable to see her, but she quickly went through the side door towards the herb gardens. Opening the door and stepping out into the sunshine again, she thought she would see Malfoy bent over the beds or trimming the verge like she had seen him doing the last week. But of course, there was no silver-blonde head bent over the plants today. Instead, there was only a man with brown hair whistling as he worked.

            "Hello!" she called out.

            The man looked up in surprise and immediately bowed again, "M'Lady."

            "Come here."

            He walked respectfully over, taking care not to meet her eyes.

            "Do you know where Malfoy is?" she asked, not wasting any time.

            The man scratched his head. "'E is not at work. E be at home, restin'"

            "Where does he live?"

            "I do not know. 'E follows the stream home every night. So 'e must live along'a the woods by the stream."

            "How far is it?"

            "Not too far, mistress. It cannot be seen by the eye, but that may be because the stream winds away to the right, yonder."

            "What is your name?"

            "Thomas."

            "Thank you very much Thomas. You have been of great help."

            Thomas smiled happily. "Ye speak too fair of me."

            Hermione watched him go back to work. She gazed over at the outer limits of the manor compound. What lay beyond that? She had already found her way out of the manor, the next thing to do was to find her way out of the manor grounds. The sky was a brilliant blue, and against it, she saw the tops of a woodland hill and smoke rising from chimney stacks to the left. To her right, a small stream she had not noticed before ran along the side of the manor. Tiny, brilliant lights danced on the ripples of water as the stream chugged along, telling her …_follow me, follow me, follow me. She really wanted to see him._

****************************************** 

            Draco had lain on his front the whole of that night, his mind drifting in and out of clouds of pain. He couldn't focus on any particular thought. The pain of the initial flogging was not unlike some of the curses Lucius had used to discipline him before, but those had dissipated quickly or were magically healed by his mother. The agony of this flogging lingered on. He felt like a turtle forced to wear a shell of burning coals.

            Perhaps what hurt more than the physical wounds was the humiliation he felt at being thrown in the dirt in front of all those men. It had been a novel experience for him not to have anyone listen to him, to be at the mercy of those above him in station. The rage and shame that went through him with each crack of the whip added to his misery rising to a climax when Granger had intervened on his behalf. A mudblood! Saving him! What new lows would he have to sink to? Surely there could be nothing wore than this.

            Eventually, he had fallen into an uneasy sleep and when he next opened his eyes, it was morning.

            He was immediately aware of the pain in his back again, but was relieved to find it had lessened considerably.

It was fortunate that Malfoy couldn't see what the flogging had done to his back. The sight would probably have made him gag. Swollen, red, cuts ran diagonally across his skin from the top of his left shoulder down to the small of his back. His exposed flesh was just beginning to heal: a nasty, wet crust of yellow scab was forming over each line. In between the cuts, the trauma had caused the unbroken flesh to bruise, and it was now turning a dark purple.

Tentatively, Draco sat up on his straw bed and stretched his limbs. He felt all right, perhaps a little feverish, but all right. He contemplated putting on his shirt, but the pain in his back screamed at him not to.

There was water in a jug on his table, and he got up slowly and moved towards it. There was a rather large piece of bread and some cheese left by the men who had carried him home yesterday and he was so hungry that he ate all of it after drinking the water.

Every step hurt. At least he could walk. He was acutely aware that the only reason he was still walking was because Hermione Granger, a _mudblood, had stood up to her father and Lord Camvile. She had said she had __pitied his filthy condition. Pity! He, being pitied by _her?_ _

Draco cursed Lord Camvile all the foulest curses he had ever learned in his life. He recalled dimly a few words that had flown over his head while he was sprawled on the ground… _"Are you calling my daughter a liar?"……. "You apologise to him, you liar!"…… "That is ENOUGH!"_

Draco put his hand into his pocket, sure enough, there was his ring and a silver coin. He was surprised that Granger had been convinced that the ring was really his, she must have seen it in Hogwarts though she had never mentioned it before. He felt unsteady and sat down on his bed again.

He better take it slow. He had three days off, that he knew. The men who had carried him in had told him so. His stomach growled. Three days…so far he had always eaten his mid-day meal and dinner up at the manor, but three days of staying at home…what was he to eat? He wished he hadn't eaten the whole piece of bread the men had left for him, he should have rationed it.

Never mind, something would turn up, he thought. At least he had still had life and limb. He lay down on his front again and shivered. For the next few hours, he drifted in and out of sleep. 

He didn't know how long he lay there but when he next opened his eyes properly, there was very little light coming through his windows.

He stirred in his half-awakeness and his exposed back began to hurt again. Thankfully, it felt even better than it had this morning, although it was extremely stiff. Hard scabs had grown over the wounds and made him feel like he was wearing some sort of stiff metal plate on his back.

It was then he noticed what had woken him up. 

Someone was knocking on his door.

His first thought was that it was Thomas. Draco had told only him the whereabouts of his cottage. Maybe Thomas had brought food. His stomach growled again.

If only he could make his way to the door.

"A minute" he called.

The person outside was calling his name.

"Malfoy, is that you?"

Draco froze. He knew that voice well. What the hell was she doing here? He took a quick look around his cottage and felt a wave of shame. The floor was filthy- he hadn't bothered to keep it clean, his fireplace was heaped with old ash and there wasn't a single piece of furniture in the room that wasn't worn to tatters. It was bad enough having Granger see him as a peasant, it was worse to have her save him from a flogging, but what would seal his ultimate humiliation was if she saw how he actually lived now.

Hermione knocked again. "Malfoy? It's me, Hermione. Are you all right?"

There was no way out now, he knew she had already heard his voice. Reluctantly, he dragged himself to the door and threw it open.

"What're you doing here?"

Hermione let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Malfoy was all right! When he hadn't answered her knocking straight away, she had imagined the worst. She noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt and felt a little shy. She held up her lamp and it lit up his face. His expression was a mixture of resentment and nervousness. 

"Come to _pity me?"_

It wasn't the welcome she had been expecting.

"I…" Hermione stammered as she wondered how to explain her presence. Maybe this was a terrible mistake! She had been so sure Malfoy would be glad to see her. Hadn't he all but said that they were friends last week? He had asked to see her, and asked her not to be late.

"I…"

"Cat got your tongue?"

_What's wrong with me!_ Hermione thought._ I've never been at a loss of words before, especially not with Draco Malfoy_. To her horror, she found herself unreasonably nervous, her heart was pounding and she felt terribly hurt. _Hurt! By Malfoy! Oh my god, she felt her hands trembling and her eyes started to smart, __am I going to cry?_

"I only wanted to see how you were! I was…so…worried…about you." Hermione felt her voice breaking in her throat. She made a huge effort to hold back her tears. _Hermione Granger, pull yourself together. You should be angry with Malfoy, not weeping over him!_

Draco was surprised. He couldn't help but notice the waver in Hermione's voice. Was she going to _cry?_ Whatever for, the silly girl? Aaargh, women. And what was wrong with him…he felt _bad about it!_

"Well if you can't talk, maybe you can move. Come in," he said gruffly, turning around and exposing his back to her.

Hermione gasped. "Your back! Oh merlin!"

Draco flinched, feeling her horrified gaze on his back. He ignored her and sat himself down on the bed.

"Welcome to my palace," he said dryly, staring at her. He expected her to laugh at him, or start pointing out how wretched his home was compared with what _she had. Lucius had always encouraged such behaviour in him._

But Hermione did nothing of that sort. She didn't even seem to hear what he had said. She was busy unpacking something from a basket she had brought and slammed something onto the table.

"Well Granger, have you lost your voice or something? Aren't you going to pity me? Poor, beaten up, sniveling peasant, living in a pig sty…"

The look Hermione gave him when she turned round shut him up completely. If he thought she looked weak and tearful at the doorstep, she looked enraged now.

"How could they _do that to you!" she cried._

"Huh?"

"It was awful… they all just listened to that bloody twit Camvile and he didn't even apologise to you!" her eyes flashed angrily.

"Granger…" Draco was at a loss for words now.

"And your back….oh sweet merlin, your back. I thought it looked bad yesterday, but I had no idea…the unfairness of it! Thank goodness I brought this." She turned around and handed him a small bottle.

"What's this?"

"Salve. For your back. I'm sorry I only brought a tiny bit… if I had known what your injuries were like, I would have brought more."

"You brought me salve?!"

Hermione was taking her cloak off. Underneath, she was wearing her grey silk dress. Draco recognized it from before, he had memorized everything about their meeting in the barn last week. These old-fashioned gowns suited Hermione. They emphasized her womanly figure without making her look tarty - an accomplishment of good taste that Pansy and Millicent never seemed able to acquire. 

She slammed her fist on the table again and turned to face him. Her lips were set in a thin line and she looked very upset. "The bastards….all of them…."

He saw her breathe deeply, overcome with anger. Once again, he was acutely aware that he owed her big time for her intervention: she was not obliged to help him in any way, but she had stuck her neck out for him. And furthermore, he know realized that he was wrong in thinking she was going to lord it over his humble position. 

Great.

In the next few moments, he would sink to even lower depths than he had ever imagined he would sink to before: First, he would have to thank smartypants Granger for saving his ass. Second, he would have to apologise for being such an idiot at the door. Well, he'd better get on with it now.

"Calm down, Granger," he said, meeting her eyes, "It could have been much worse. Now, I'm going to say something to you that I've never said before and if I don't do it now, I might change my mind. So…. thankyouforsavingmyassyesterdayandsorryiwassuchanjerkatthedoorjustnow."

Hermione grinned. "Could you say that again Malfoy? Don't think I caught the 'such a jerk' bit too well."

"Don't push it."

"Well, after that lovely welcome…" she turned and took out some bread from her basket, "…how about some food?"

"You brought food?!" Lucky for him, Hermione Granger was the smartest witch in Hogwarts. "Where're your parents? Won't you get caught?"

"Not likely. Lord and Lady Granger are in Lancashire for two whole months. And don't worry, I won't get caught. I'm used to sneaking around with Harry and Ron. We did it all the time in Hogwarts."

 "Miss Granger." Draco said, "This food wins you one million points for Gryffindor."

She handed Draco the bread and watched him eat. 

"Was your father angry with you? I thought he might be…with the way you slagged off Camshit yesterday."

Hermione tossed her hair, and Draco was again mesmerized by the glow of her lamp on her skin. "I got lines," Hermione said sulkily, "I have to copy and memorize passages from the bible for two hours every morning with Father Lorenzo."

"You got off easy" Draco spoke through a mouthful of food, "You'd better not try all that SPEW stuff here. People'll think you're weird. Just leave us lower classes to our own cess-pit."

"Yes but it was so _unfair."_

"Granger….take it from me. You will never be able to change anything….I am a peasant. You are a Lady. To Lord Granger and Lord Camgit, I am worth less than a hair on a monkey's arse."

Hermione giggled. She never, _ever thought she'd hear Draco "I'm-so-great-and-I-live-in-a-mansion" Malfoy compare himself to hair on a monkey's arse._

"Stop giggling. I meant that figuratively."

There was a companionable silence as they sat there together. How odd…she felt like she had been friends with him for years…not just a few days. Who would have thought that there _was a good side to Malfoy- he was gentlemanly, clever, and tougher than she ever expected. And in spite of herself, she found herself enjoying his company…_

As their eyes met, she held his gaze a moment too long than she intended to. It was like he could see straight through her. He had caught her out…_No, no, no, this can't be happening to me_. Hermione flushed deep red and got to her feet hastily.

"It's getting late," she said. _Hermione, how could you let this happen to you! You've gone and done it now…stop it this instant…The rapid beating of her heart, the hotness she felt running through her, the electricity she felt between her and Malfoy….her body defied her rationalizing. __Stop it, stop it Hermione. Get away from here, you know quite well what is happening to you, why you crave his company, bring him salve and food… "I'd better go. Goodness, where's my cloak…" she bumped into a chair and knocked over the jug of water at the same time. _

Draco's heart was hammering in his ribs. Something had happened. Something huge. He felt like he was all over the place. _Come on Draco, move, say something…he willed himself to but all he could do was sit there paralysed with nervousness. It had all happened so fast, in one tremendous moment. It was too much to deal with for both of them and she knew it too… that was why she was leaving, frightened, upset…and he was frozen to the spot like a stupid statue…._

"Oh and here's the basket. I'll leave this cheese and these apples…" Hermione unpacked everything rapidly and fled towards the door.

He watched her pause in the doorway and turn round to face him. The summer light was fading and he could hardly make out her figure in the doorway. It seemed like she wanted to speak as well, but the words never came.

_Seal this moment, Draco. Tell her not to be scared, that you felt it too and that it's ok…_

Then she was gone.

Draco sat in the growing darkness for a long time, trapped in a cage of conflict. Furious at his own muteness and yet, relieved that nothing had actually been said. 

How could this be possible? She was a living insult to his pureblood beliefs- an unworthy, muggle-born, upstart. But oddly enough, those very things that fuelled his contempt of her had resulted in an almost unhealthy obsession with her. He had watched her more and more often, telling himself he was watching her for faults and flaws...but he hadn't found flaws. All he had found in the last year was increasing pleasure in watching chestnut hair and brown eyes.

If it had been hard to deny his feelings back in Hogwarts, it was well nigh impossible here- what with Granger thrust into his company, sticking her neck out for him, taking risks to bring him food, _looking at him in that way_… Could it be his past beliefs didn't matter to him anymore? Was he going to finally have to admit to himself the truth about how he felt? Would that even be so bad?

Slowly, Draco lay down on his front, the bottle of salve in his hand. He realized he couldn't reach his back to apply it properly. He fell asleep imagining gentle, cool hands rubbing the salve into his wounds, soothing his burning skin,  healing… 


	10. Chapter 10: Drraaco

**Chapter 10: Drraaco**

_ "1 Timothy 2:11-15.  Mulier in silentio discat cum omni subiectione docere autem. Mulieri non permitto neque dominari in virum sed esse in silentio." _Hermione intoned, her mind constantly toying over how she felt about Draco.

"Correct, please continue" said the old priest.

"_Adam enim primus formatus est deinde Eva._ Et Adam…_er…._Et Adam…_er, I forget. Sorry."_

Father Lorenzo hinted, "_Et Adam __non est seductus…"_

"…er…_non est seductus in praevaricatione fuit. Salvabitur autem per filiorum…filiorum…er…"_

The old priest sighed and shut the psalter.

"Mistress Granger… is something troubling you? You have been distracted all week."

Hermione bit her lip and blushed. "There is nothing, father."

"A young maid does not blush when there is nothing the matter."

Father Lorenzo looked shrewdly at the young girl before him. He had watched her grow up and knew her to be impulsive and strong-willed. "Perhaps you have something you wish to confess?" He asked, gently.

"Confess?" Hermione looked surprised.

Father Lorenzo gave her a knowing look, "Perhaps it involves a man…?"

Hermione blushed even redder.

"I have no beau. You know that."

"Then perhaps it involves one who is not such….yet."

Father Lorenzo had come so near the truth that Hermione felt like panicking. But that would only let the old man know and he might tell her father.

"No!" she said, rather loudly. "If I am distracted, it is only because these passages are so old-fashioned and difficult to understand."

"Do not blaspheme!" said Father Lorenzo, crossing himself. "Your mother should have insisted on bringing you to chapel more often, but she was soft…The words of the bible are beautiful, like pure music that speaks to the soul."

"I'm sorry," she said.

Father Lorenzo patted her hand "_For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Whatever is troubling you, Hermione. Be at ease, for as long as we can love and reason, all will be well."_

Easy for him to say, thought Hermione wryly. He was a priest. What would he know about things like this? He didn't understand at all…what she was facing was impossible.

"Let us continue," said the Father Lorenzo opening the psalter, "Repeat after me Hermione_… __Luke 6:35 But love thine enemies and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great …"_

She tried to distract herself in the strict routine of daily duties. Mornings were spent studying latin and the bible with Father Lorenzo, afternoons were spent seeing to the estate accounts with Audley and Fanhope or working on her sewing. It was only the idleness of the long summer evenings that tormented her, for then she would be left alone with thoughts of him, and whether what had taken place had been real.

She went about her duties efficiently and calmly, but all the while, she felt her thoughts wandering back to him and that look they had shared. She was beginning to understand her feelings toward Draco. During that moment, she knew for certain that he must feel at least of a little of it for her as well.  But wasn't that so _impossible? They were enemies!Could such feeling spring from deepest hate? And was not Blaise Zabini claimant to such feelings of his already? _

_Stupid, stupid _she scolded herself. Running away had been idiotic, she should have stayed to play it down! So Hermione agonized over what to say to him at their next meeting. Would he laugh at her? Would he sneer? What if she had imagined the whole thing? How long could she go on avoiding him? It had been already been a week…

"The mistress has grown thin," the servants whispered to one another, "she ails."

Mary was very concerned. It seemed that with each passing day, Hermione wilted like a plucked rose. Mary had not lived so long in the world without some knowledge of it, and it seemed to her the only illness that could bring this on was a sickening of the heart…but what was its cause? Her mistress' heart had seemed to be of stone- no suitor thus far had melted it, indeed, that was the greatest woe of her parents. But now, in the way Hermione sat listlessly at her sewing, sighed at the window or tossed in her sleep, Mary was sure that she saw signs of heartsickness.

It pained Mary her to see Hermione thus. If she could but help in some small manner…Perhaps she could think of something to cheer her up.

"M'lady?"

"Yes, Mary" Hermione replied, listlessly.

"I know of something of great fun, M'lady…but you must swear never to impart this to another."

Hermione's curiosity was piqued, and she nodded. "I swear."

"In two weeks, it will be midsummer's eve, mistress. 'Tis a magik time, especially for young maids like yourself."

"What are you suggesting?"

Mary lowered her voice to a whisper. "We do not speak openly of it now, but the old traditions of Feill-sheathain live on. It is a night when young girls may implore the fay-folk to divine their true loves. There are magik rituals that live on, harmless fun though the church frowns on them… and that night is coming. If you suffer from heartsickness, midsummer is a time to settle such matters."

"You believe in fay folk?" Hermione found she was whispering as well.

"I seen them, in Flinders Wood beyond the stream, when I was a young girl. But I never saw them again."

Hermione smiled. "Was it on Feill-sheathain?"

Mary smiled, "Yes. And it was my grandmother who told me what I tell you. I remember it well: t'was Hester Abagnale, Mary Culdon, Ruth Brenthurst and I. We stole out that night, against our parents' wishes…and we ran to the Flinders Wood. For Ruth said she had seen fay-rings there."

"Toadstools?"

"Aye, and we wove our chaplets and sang the old rhyme. And then it happened."

"What?" Hermione was fascinated now. She had never seen fay-folk herself, even though she knew they existed. They were the most elusive of all magical creatures and even Ministry officials were divided on their exact nature.

"We saw them. They were tall and bright. Not like the little fairies my mam used to sing to me about… Grandmother were right, these were like real people, and yet they were not, for the light of the stars was in their eyes. We all saw them, well… all except Hester Abagnale. And she never believed us after though we told her t'was truth. If t'weren't for our chaplets, I daresay we would've been stolen away to fay land. Those fay folk looked longingly at us, and Ruth would've gone with them but that Mary and I held on to her."

"That sounds fantastic…" breathed Hermione.

"But t'was not the purpose of the evening. We were young maids then, and our foolery had a greater purpose…" Mary's needle stopped as the words of an old rhyme came to her, she began to repeat them…

_"The young maid stole through the cottage door,   
And blushed as she sought the Plant of pow'r;--   
'Thou silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light,   
I must gather the mystic St. John's wort tonight,   
The wonderful herb, whose leaf will decide   
If the coming year shall make me a bride…"_

_"And the glow-worm came  
With its silvery flame,  
And sparkled and shone   
Through the night of __St. John__,   
And soon has the young maid her love-knot tied." _Finished Hermione

"D'ye know it, M'Lady?" her maidservant asked in surprise.

            Hermione nodded, "But it is an old, half-forgotten rhyme with no truth. 'Tis only for children."

            "That is not so, M'Lady" said Mary, her eyes bright. "We all gathered the herb of the saint that night, and what should we dream of with it under our pillows? Why Hester Abagnale dreamt of Joseph Smith, and indeed, today she is Mistress Smith. Mary and Ruth never said what they dreamt, but they are both happily wed now."

            Mary sighed. Hermione thought she looked sad.

            "I dreamt of no-one that night save a young girl, with a face like a rose, laughing on my lap…which is why" Mary turned around and resumed her cleaning, "…the next year Lord and Lady Granger asked for a nurse for their only child, a daughter, and then I came to you. Yes, it was you, Hermione- I may be an old unmarried maid, but it is my destiny."

            "Mary dear as mother," Hermione touched the old lady's cheek gently, "You are telling me this because?"

            "Because Feill-sheathain approaches. And you are a fair maid in your eighteenth year. Use your good sense, M'Lady."

"Mary, I thank ye. But I do not believe in such rituals."

Mary shrugged and returned to shaking out Hermione's linens.

"Just thought I'd give you something to go on, M'lady."

Hermione laughed, "If Father Lorenzo could hear us!"

Mary looked worried, "You mustn't breathe a word."

Hermione grinned, "I will not, honour bright."

As Hermione watched her maidservant bustle around the room and eventually take her leave, she couldn't help but be intrigued at how such old English customs could survive despite the best efforts of the church. Father Lorenzo's comforting words came to her again, _For__ God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind and she believed that, and took comfort in it. But she also remembered the magik of midsummer _'Thou silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light, I must gather the mystic __St. John's__ wort tonight…_" All the half-forgotten rhymes studied in History of Magic now were real for her. If only Professor Binns could see what she was living through now! He would probably have her write an essay on it…_

Olde England and fay-folk…were they more active now than in the future? And why? Mary and her friends had seen them easily, and yet, in the future, the best Ministry officials staking out toadstool-rings during midsummer night in hopes of documenting the fay folk came back none the wiser.

Wait a minute.

Toadstool rings?! Fairy rings?

Fay folk meant fairy rings, and fair rings meant...fernseed. Fernseed! They needed to collect that on Midsummer's Eve! Could it be that there was some growing as close by as Flinder's Wood? With a guilty start, Hermione realized that over the last week she had not given the topic of returning to her own time much thought. Her mind had been filled with other things.

Midsummer was only two weeks away- they had to find that fernseed before then. And besides that, there were the protection charms to make- for otherwise, it was not safe to be around fay-folk on midsummer.

She couldn't waste any more time. No matter how she felt about Draco, she had to tell him. Hermione found herself in the narrow stone corridor that led to the small side-door. Her hands trembled as she opened the latch and let herself out.

******************************************* 

            "M'Lady?" asked Hibbings, surprised to see the lady in the outer compound.

            "Where is Malfoy?" she asked  crisply.

            Hibbings looked taken aback. "That young scallywag? He's working on the new barn."

            "Bring that boy to me."

            Hibbings nodded and slouched off in the direction of the new barn. Hermione felt herself panicking at the thought of seeing Malfoy. This was a mistake, she was not ready to see him yet. What if the moment that had passed between them had made things awkward? What if he thought her a fool? She could just hear his sneering voice saying _why were you avoiding me Granger?_ As she stood and nervously smoothed out the folds in her green dress, she realized it was the same dress he had first seen her in nearly three weeks ago.

            Hibbings was returning, a lean and tall blonde boy behind him. They were quite far away…then before she knew it, he was before her.

            Hermione felt faint and her voice was shrill as she dismissed Hibbings. She still hadn't met Draco's eye. He stood before her, just as she remembered him. 

            Neither said a word.

            _This is ridiculous thought Hermione. She tried to say something, but her voice stuck on the way out. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. She could do this, she could stand up to him._

            Draco felt incredibly shy. What if the moment that had passed between them had made things awkward? What if she thought him a fool? He could just hear her bossy voice saying _what were you thinking Malfoy?_

            He hadn't thought about anything else the whole week. The more he tried to fight off those feelings, the more they engulfed him. He had felt his resolve breaking…here they were, five hundred years in the past, with the slimmest possibility of getting back to the future…bloodlines be damned. So why was it, with his mind made up and all that, was he still standing here tongue-tied, like Neville Longbottom being questioned by Snape in Potions?

            His eyes met hers.

            He had the insane urge to reach out and touch her, but Hibbings was loitering nearby. He wasn't keen on another flogging. Er….what could he say to her to show that he was still cool, self-assured Draco Malfoy? A hundred witty things ran through his mind.

            "Miss me?" he said at last. 

_What an idiotic thing to say Draco!_ _And merlin's beard, wipe that grin off your face.__ Come on, look cool….fierce…you're the Slytherin prince for goodness' sake… But Draco's muscles were stuck in a permanent grin. It was strange how he lost control of most of his psycho-motor skills when she was around._

Hermione felt the tension drain from her. One whole week's worth of agonizing for this silly, grinning, farmboy?! Hermione Granger, you silly girl!

"I'm not the one grinning like a goofball." She said, and tossed her hair.

Draco made a huge effort to yank the corners of his mouth down. Both of them were relieved to see that they could still have normal conversations around each other, despite what had happened.

"So what's up, Granger? Haven't seen you around for ages."

"Busy. Parents are away, you remember. I have to run the whole place."

"Fancy you'd like that…being so bossy."

"Listen," Hermione "There are too many people around and we can't talk now. There is fernseed- in Flinders Wood behind your cottage."

Draco's eyes widened. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"Can't explain now. But I'm pretty sure. I'll visit you one evening this week, and we'll go hunt for it."

"I'll try searching for it before then as well."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see you"

She was as lovely as he remembered. This was the green dress she had worn when he first laid eyes on her in the past. That moment was fixed in his mind- how he had looked up from fallowing the herb garden and seen her looking down at him, with shocked, toffee-coloured eyes.

The week without seeing her had been awful for him. He had imagined that she was ignoring him and that she regretted what had passed between them that night. He was getting so desperate to see her again, just to make sure things were all right, that he had even thought of sneaking into the manor.

Now she was standing here before him, in the flesh, not angry with him, not regretful…_say something Malfoy, you great, mute, dunderhead…he was trying to…he was so close…_

"Malfoy?" she asked curiously. He had suddenly frozen up. "Malfoy, I said, goodbye. Hello…are you there?"

"Yeah…uh…I'll see you soon…" he said at last. But this time he _had_ to have the last word. He had let it go last time, not seized the moment. He felt that this was another chance and he _must_ take it. "…Hermione." 

He turned and hurried over to the new barn.

Hermione was so shocked she couldn't believe her ears. The word sounded so foreign on his tongue that he might as well have called her 'Voldemort'. Slowly, she turned and went back to the manor.

A few hours later, during supper, Hermione put down her spoon and knife and stopped chewing. None of the other servants noticed- Audley and Fanhope were busy talking to the under-servants. She took a drink of water and cleared her throat. "Drraaco" she said, softly. Then again, "Draaco".

By her third try, it was perfect.


	11. Chapter 11: Nothing's Going On

**A/N: I could tell you all what the bible verses mean in English but let's have a little contest. An honorary award and one hundred points (to my fave house Slytherin) for the first reviewer to include the English translation in his/her review of this chapter! **

**If you read carefully, you would have noticed that I included the _book, chapter _and_ verse_ of what our favourite heroine was forced to learn in chapters 9 and 10. It's really worth finding out… Lord Granger really meant to sock it to her! If you don't own a bible, you can find online bibles in English on the net so simply enter the appropriate reference.**

**Good Luck!**

**And here's today's chapter…aaahhh, the course of true love never did run smooth….**

**Chapter 11: Nothing's Going On**

It was a quiet summer's evening. The air was warm and the sun hovered in the sky, reluctant to set. This was the second time they had come to Flinders Wood. The first time was five days ago when they had hunted for Fayferns. Fernseed was the pollen that grew in the flowers of a Fayfern. Fayferns bloomed only once a year- on midnight during Midsummer's Eve and they were always found near mushroom rings. They found the tiny plant easily enough and marked out the area.

On this night, their presence in the wood had a different purpose. Draco and Hermione sat facing each other on the ground near the Fayfern patch. Scattered around them were bunches of herbs which Draco had filched from the manor grounds. Both wore a look of intense concentration as they tied the herbs into silk ribbons that Hermione had provided. Only if you had gone right up to them could you have heard what they were chanting quietly…

**"**One for the Goddess and one for the God, 

This one even and this one odd

Rosemary, rue and sweet orpine  
Daisy fayfern celadine…." Muttered Draco. He felt slightly ridiculous, though he had studied this in Professor Binn's class, he never thought that such old magik was actually effective. These chants were from the Herbalist era of magic, everyone knew they had been replaced with the Realist school of magic. He glanced over at Hermione and saw that she was taking this very seriously

"We read the circle about and about  
Dancing gaily tout a tout tout!  
Thread the ring about and throughout  
Laughing gaily tout a tout out!" Hermione chanted quietly, tying the herbs into the ribbon with a series of little knots.

  
Draco focused his attention back on his own chaplet and finished his chant.

 "One for the Lady and one for the Lord

One for the sheath, then one for the sword."

He fastened the two ends of his ribbon together and held his completed chaplet out for inspection. Hermione finished her rhyme and took his chaplet in her hands. She turned it around and pulled at it to see if it was tight enough. She nodded and handed it back to him.

"Are you sure this'll work?"

"Positive, I got the chant out of Mary. If we wear these, we will be perfectly safe on Midsummer's Eve."

"If you get taken by the fay folk don't expect me to rescue you."

"I won't. Anyway, it's roughly the same chant as the one Professor Binns had us memorize in fourth year when we were covering the Herbalists."

"I can't remember anything about History of Magic," said Draco, "You know what, Hermione, it seems that as the days wear on here, I'm starting to forget bits and pieces of my life back there."

"That's a side-effect of the Thyme Eliminus, Draco" said Hermione immediately, "Didn't you read the footnotes of your Potions Textbook? I felt it start last week."

"You did?" Draco looked relieved, "I thought I was going potty or something."

"Don't worry, it's normal. Once we've spent longer in the past than in our present lives, we'll totally forget our future lives. But that won't happen because we'd have to spend eighteen years here before it happens."

"What've you forgotten so far?"

Hermione laughed, "That sounds so silly- if I'd forgotten, I couldn't remember could I? Well anyway, I forgot some spells. Like I can't remember how to shrink something anymore."

"Reducto" said Draco.

"Yes, that's it. But it's not the only one, I forgot various other spells too. And I spent half of last night trying to remember the name of my cat."

"Crookshanks" said Draco, automatically.

Hermione smiled, "Thanks. Crookshanks. Goodness, I miss him. He was such a sweet cat….I hope Dumbledore sent him home to my parents."

"Your sweet cat tried to take my eye out once."

"That's because you sat on him in the Prefects' common room. Anyway, what about you Draco?  You said you'd forgotten some things as well…"

"Well, aside from spells which I've forgotten….what's the name of the Minister for Magic?"

"Cornelius Fudge"

"Great- I was supposed to have a meeting with him last week. And I've forgotten the names of some of the companies and stocks I'd invested the Malfoy money in. It really bothers me."

"I didn't know you ran the Malfoy estate now," Hermione was surprised, "Are you really in charge of all of it?"

"Yes," Malfoy pulled out a leather cord out of the collar of his shirt and there was the ring. "This is the Malfoy signet ring. The head of the family always wears it."

Hermione nodded. "I saw it on your finger in Potions NEWT. But I didn't know what it meant."

Malfoy gave a small sigh, "It means, Hermione, that I am the head of the Malfoy family now since Lucius isn't around anymore. I basically run the whole estate- including seeing to the upkeep of Malfoy Manor and our other personal properties, and I also oversee our investment portfolio."

"Kind of like what my father does here, with Audley and Fanhope to help him."

"Exactly."

"I've been helping out now that he's away. It's not easy at all- Audley and Fanhope bring up thorny issues like having to collect and pay tithes, and whether we should rotate the lands and that sort of thing."

"Well," Draco looked amused that Hermione had actually helped out in running an estate, "We're a bit more advanced than that back at Malfoy Manor. We have lawyers and bankers to help us. Everyone thinks our fortune is piled in heaps of galleons in Gringott's bank, but it isn't. It's invested in various companies and projects around the world. Or at least, I invested it after taking over from Lucius."

Hermione was impressed, "You know how to invest?"

Draco shrugged, "I'm a fast learner. I lost some at the start, but I've always been interested in that sort of thing. I was going to work at Gringott's in the Muggle Investment Department once we graduated from Hogwarts."

"You? Work? I can't imagine that."

"Well, you're right. Malfoys don't actually work. We just sit on Directors Boards mostly, and I was going to be on the Directors Board at Gringotts."

"That's more like it. Wow…I didn't know you had to do all this…" Hermione's voice trailed off. She thought of her last year at Hogwarts. While she, Ron and Harry were throwing stink-bombs at the first years, Draco was balancing investment portfolios. No wonder he had been too busy to harass them much.

"You wouldn't, would you? We weren't exactly friends back then."

Hermione smiled, feeling a flush beginning to creep onto her cheeks. Since that night, neither had mentioned anything about the growing friendship, or whatever, between them. The hunt for fernseed had gone smoothly, both had been careful not to mention anything awkward. She was beginning to convince herself that she had imagined everything.

"I wasn't aware we were friends now" Hermione threw a bunch of herbs at Draco.

He threw a larger bunch back at her, "You're right. I am but your lowly servant, your ladyship."

"Oh don't be silly," she giggled as he got onto his knees in front of her.

"How may your humble servant serve you today?"

"Draco Malfoy…"

He suddenly grabbed the hem of her dress and kissed it, "I am not worthy to kiss the hem of your gown…"

Hermione squealed and yanked her dress back.

"Servant, you overstep yourself." She said, haughtily. "I sentence you to one month of my company." She was shocked by her daringness. There was short silence.

"M'Lady,  methinks you mix your punishments and rewards." he said, softly.

The summer sun was at last beginning to set. In the dusk, Hermione saw the gleam of the last rays of the sun fall gently on Draco's silver-blonde hair. His clothes were plain and rough, but that did not hide what a fine body he had. And his eyes…those blue-gray eyes that looked at her with such softness… She could swear that that he was leaning towards her…

"Draco," she said, turning away, "I wonder that Harry, Ron and Blaise are doing now."

            "Who cares?" Draco whispered.

            "Please," she said, standing up abruptly, "don't."

            "Don't what?" he snapped, reddening.

            "Just don't." Hermione said, her voice becoming thin. "I have to leave now."

_She remembers my engagement_, thought Draco bitterly, _and knowing goody-goody Granger, she will never let herself forget it._ "Suit yourself." He said rudely. 

Hermione felt terrible. "Why do you have to spoil everything?" she said.

"Oh yes, it's my fault as usual."

"Draco…"

"Why don't you call me Ferret Boy. Go on, you know you want to."

"That's not true."

"Prissy little tease, get out of here." Even as he said the words, Draco regretted them. Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and she grabbed her lamp.

            _I've blown it all. I messed it all up even before I began. Shit. Anyway, what the fuck, let her go. _Draco watched her vanish into the darkness. _Aaaw__ shit, what have I done. He got up and chased after her._

            Holding her lamp out in front of her, she made her way along the stream back to the manor. She could feel her blood rushing past her ears, throbbing with each heartbeat.

            "Wait." Draco caught up with her, his own lamp in hand. "I didn't mean it."

            Hermione couldn't trust herself to talk. She was overwhelmed with hurt and anger. She knew this was Draco's way of apologizing, and she wanted to put it behind her, but it wasn't so simple.

            "Look ,do you want to talk about what's going on?" his voice was strained.

            "Nothing's going on," she said, not looking at him. "Nothing."

            Draco cleared his throat, "This is really hard for me, ok? Don't pretend nothing's going on, you heard yourself in the woods."

            "Hard for _you?" Hermione's voice shook. "It's always about you isn't it? And about what happened in the woods, why don't you stop messing with me then?"_

            "_One month of my company_- oh yeah, sure nothing's going on! What the hell did you mean by that?"

"You have some imagination and nerve, Malfoy. I wish I wasn't stuck here with you- it's the worst thing that has ever, EVER happened to me! Just leave me ALONE!"

"If nothing's going on, why are you SHOUTING at me?"

            Hermione turned and fled, and Draco stood there seething with rage. _Him, messing with her?__ More like the other way round, fuck that. He tramped back to his cottage and slammed the door. He threw the chaplets on the floor and punched the rough stone of the fireplace so hard his knuckles split. _Well screw it all! She could just go and die because he didn't give a damn about her.__

            But his dreams that night proved him wrong.

****************************************** 

It was the first time Hermione had cried over a boy. It hurt more than she imagined possible. _Damn you Draco…Malfoy…Draco…_ How could he mean so much to her? "I hate you" she whispered into her pillow. "I hate you." 

She tried to comfort herself by reminding herself that she was the lady of the manor, dressed in fine silks and jewels with barons asking for her hand. He was a lowly peasant, filthy, unworthy of attention. How could she let him have such a hold over her? She should have him put in the stocks! Hermione smiled to herself, feeling a little better.

Maybe she could get Hibbings to cut his wages or make him work overtime.

_Hermione Granger, what is wrong with you_? With horror, she realized she was thinking of abusing her power. Was it so easy to slip into that callous attitude once one was rich? She was no better than Malfoy! No, she would have to be better than Malfoy. She would show him that she was in control, not by abusing him, but by showing him how little he could affect her. She would be all gracious and nonchalant. If he wanted to be a prat, she would not be dragged down by him. She would apologise first, and her kindness would show him how horrible he was.

Making up her mind, Hermione fell asleep.

************************************************* 

            Hermione was having a wonderful dream. Draco was there, everything was all right between them, and suddenly, he handed her a beautiful…

"M'Lady, awaken! Do awaken!" The dream began slipping away.

She awoke to Mary's urgent pleas. Her maidservant's eyes were bright with excitement. "You're awake!" Mary said.

            "What is it?" she mumbled sleepily. She was aware of a sweet smell in the air.

            "Look on the bed!"

            Hermione's eyes gradually focused on the foot of her bed. They grew wide with surprise….

**(A/N: Felt like ending it here, but that would be very cruel.)**

            "Mary!" Hermione gasped. "Did you put these here?"

            "Not I, M'Lady…'Tis witchery! Oh 'tis witchery!" the plump lady whispered.

            Hermione picked up one of the flowers on her bed. It was her favourite type.

            "Oh don't touch it, M'Lady. It might be bewitched! 'Tis too early in summer for roses, this is devil's work!" Mary crossed herself.

            Hermione fingered each petal of the red rose gently. It was soft as velvet and looked freshly plucked. It gave off a sweet smell. There were many more laid out on her bedspread. But surely it had only been a dream…

            "Oh no Mary. I doubt something this beautiful could be devilry."

            "What is it then, M'Lady? How come these blooms here?"

            "You believe in magik, don't you, Mary? You told me yourself"

            Mary gasped, "Fay-folk?"

            Hermione smiled, "Midsummer is coming soon. Perhaps this is the work of fay-folk. I don't think you should be frightened. Gather them up and put them in a vase."

            Mary reached out and picked up one of the roses gingerly.

            "Indeed, M'Lady. These are the most beautiful roses I have ever seen."

            "Do not tell anyone, Mary" Hermione said, slipping out of bed to help the maidservant gather the rest of the blooms. Each rose she picked up looked and smelled lovelier than the last.

            "I heard afore of things like this happening." Mary whispered, still surprised and overcome, "But bless me, I never thought I'd live to see real magik."

            "Neither did I" said Hermione. "Real magic."

There could be only one explanation for this- that despite not having their wands, they could do unfocused magic.

            She knew that the quarrel between her and Draco had ended. And despite her best laid plans, Draco had managed to apologise first. 


	12. Chapter 12: The Magic of Midsummer

**The honorary award goes to….FRITH. Frith also wins 100 points for Slytherin!**

**Way to go the rest of you who found out! I told you Lord Granger meant business. Now, no more annoying Author's Notes for some time, take a deep breath and everyone wear your protective chaplets because you must beware of ….**

**Chapter 12: The Magic of Midsummer**

            Hermione found that try as she might, she could not diminish her feelings for Draco in the slightest. If anything, the sight of the roses, now in a vase in her room, reminded her constantly that, like it or not, there was something between them. She was certain it was Draco who had put them there, but she could not figure out how. Could it be they were still magic? Was it really a result of wandless magic? If it was, it was good to know they were still magic. If only she could talk to Draco about it properly… but she still felt uncomfortable around him. Though she had forgiven him, she hadn't worked out how she felt about him, especially with Blaise Zabini hanging around the edge of her mind….she couldn't even decide if she wanted to help him gather fernseed on Midsummer's Eve…

            Draco was annoyed at himself for shooting off his mouth that night. Things were going fine, so…._aaauuuugh, why did he have to lose his temper? And despite his initial rage at her, all he wanted to do now was apologise and have things go back to the way they were. He had come to realize that the worst thing of all was that every time Hermione decided to avoid him, she managed to very successfully. It was impossible for him to catch even a glimpse of her if she did not come into the outer compound. They had absolutely no way of communicating unless she decided to sneak out. The situation was most unsatisfactory._

            And now it was only two days to midsummer's eve. What if she didn't turn up? Well, fine. If she was going to stay mad at him, let her stay mad. He was perfectly capable of collecting the fernseed by himself.

************************************* 

On Midsummer's Eve, the stablehands and servants were let off early as was the custom. The church had yet to prevail against some old traditions. Most people stayed indoors on this night, afraid of the thinning of the veil between the fairie world and the mortal one. Draco ate his supper in his cottage and drank water collected from the stream. The sun stubbornly refused set on this longest evening of the year.

He fingered the two chaplets they had woven a week ago. The herbs had dried and now gave off a sweet smell. He remembered her sitting opposite him on the ground, chanting under her breath, looking as lovely as a fairy herself. He had told Hermione about his duties as head of the Malfoy estate and she had understood and sympathized. Then somehow, things had gotten out of hand and they had quarreled. 

Badly.

And every night since, he had dreamed of her, dreamed of apologizing and seeing her smile at him again. The first night the dream had been so real he could almost smell the flowers he presented her as a token of apology. But as she reached for them with a smile on her face, the dream dissolved and he found himself alone in his cottage.

If only he could be sure of her feelings for him, he would give up everything for her. Yes…including his engagement. But he was caught in a catch-22 situation. Hermione wasn't clear about her feelings for him because she was concerned about his engagement. If he ditched his engagement and declared his feelings for her, what if she decided that it still wasn't enough? He would have made himself such a fool…His mind went round and round, trying to figure out what to do. 

At last, he noticed that it was dark. He estimated it was about eleven o'clock. 

Time to go to collect fernseed. Alone.

There was a knock on his door.

He jumped. The stablehands had told him stories of fay-folk wandering about on Litha and ensnaring mortals. In the future, such stories were but children's stories for baby wizards and witches, but somehow, in the past, they seemed more real than ever.

He put on his chaplet.

"Who's there?"

"It's me, hurry, let me in."

He threw open the door. White-faced and breathing hard, Hermione stood on his doorstep. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in.

"Are you crazy? Wandering around after sun-down on Litha." He said, not angrily but in concern.

Hermione caught her breath at last. "I- I decided to come. But it was too late, the sun had set and I had no choice. So I just had to run here and trust nothing would happen."

"Scared of the fay-folk?" he teased.

"If you must know, yes." she said. "Give me my chaplet."

Draco realized he was holding her chaplet in his hand. He put it over her head.

Hermione looked visibly comforted.

"Draco…about last week…I'm sorry."

"Forget it," then realizing he might have sounded harsh, he smiled at her. Hermione felt like reaching up to touch his face. Somehow, when they met up again, everything was always better than she imagined it would be. She smiled back. It was not a good time to ask him about the roses, so she put it off.

"I was scared that you might have left, I didn't want you to go alone," she said.

"Me neither," he admitted. "I hope your chaplets work."

"It's nearly time," Hermione said. "Before I left the Hall Clock read a quarter past eleven."

"Well then, shall we, M'Lady?" he said, opening the door.

"Father Lorenzo would kill me if he could see what I was doing tonight" said Hermione, as she and Draco stumbled into Flinders Wood by the pale light of their lamps.

"Hush." Draco shushed her. They were entering a deeper part of the wood where the fayferns grew and Draco had a strange feeling that there were others in the wood.

Hermione began to shiver. She felt it too. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt something touch her hand. Draco grasped her free hand tightly and smiled at her. She smiled back.

As quietly as they could, they made their way to the toadstool ring and the fayferns. Hermione was relieved to see that there was nothing unusual about the ring. Together, they bent down to the fayferns and both saw the tiny white flowers beginning to unfurl.

She let Draco lead her aside and sit them both down on the ground. In fifteen more minutes, they could shake the fernseed out of the fully bloomed fayfern flowers and get out of there. Hermione was not a witch for nothing. She could sense magic all around her tonight, but it was an ancient, mysterious magic, not at all like the sort she had been used to in the future world.

Draco could sense it too. But strangely, he was not afraid of it at all. It felt somehow familiar. He was keenly aware of Hermione's soft hand in his. He hadn't let it go for ten minutes. Now and then, he tightened his fingers around hers to let her know everything was okay.

_Draco__ Malfoy is holding my hand. _Draco___ Malfoy is holding my hand. Hermione repeated the phrase mentally to herself twenty nine times. The thirtieth time, she turned the phrase around __I am holding Draco Malfoy's hand. She thought of Blaise and felt ashamed. Gently, she removed her hand from his and placed it in her lap._

Draco felt her withdraw and felt a pang of hurt. He knew she was thinking about Blaise again. He focused instead on watching the fayfern flowers, watching for the moment of their greatest bloom when they would have to collect the fernseed. In Diagon Alley, you could buy fernseed at a sickle a scoop. Draco wished he were there.

Finally, the little white flowers burst open and revealed their precious golden pollen.

Draco shook Hermione, and pointed to them.

Hermione didn't move.

He held her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and her chest moved softly up and down. She was fast asleep! He shook her gently, then harder, but she wouldn't wake. 

How odd.

Gently, he laid her on the ground and got to his feet. Well, he could easily collect the fernseed himself. All he had to do was to shake the heads of the flowers into the little pouch they had brought. He fumbled for the pouch at his waist and drew it out. Swiftly, he walked around the toadstool ring and knelt down by the flowers. He shook the pollen into the bag. Each flower gave a teaspoonful. Very soon, the small pouch was filled. He had the strangest sensation someone was standing behind him, but when he turned, there was no-one. He should have been scared, but he wasn't. 

Perhaps it due to his relief at having successfully collected the fernseed that Draco didn't watch where he was going. He looked happily at Hermione still sleeping soundly on the grass and took three hasty steps toward her.

Then it happened.

To his horror, he was frozen to the spot. Damn! He had stepped into the blasted fay-ring. All he could see was Hermione lying on the ground in front of him and it seemed she grew brighter and brighter. But how could that be? Suddenly, he was aware that it was because the clearing in Flinders Wood was growing light, not with the golden light of the sun, but with a cold, pale light like starlight. Suddenly, he heard laughter all around him and soft music. 

_"Mother, Goddess, Divine One,  
Who has called us? Who's the one?  
Bless this circle, here and now,  
Come to us, come to us..."_

               He thought he could make out tall shapes before him. He had a strong urge to reach out and touch them.

_"Our Queen she sits upon the strand,_

_Fair as lily, white as wand;_

_She summons you, here and now_

_Come to us, come to us_

_But what is this, our plans despoiled_

_Around his neck a chaplet coiled"_

            There was ringing laughter and the tall shapes before him slowed and gathered around him. _Please leave Hermione alone,_ he prayed.

            But he need not have worried, for the shapes were clustering around him and him only. He could now see men and women. They were all beautiful, and yet, their beauty was the sort that was terrible to look upon. The pale light that shone from them reminded him of the light of the stars and it hurt to look too long upon them. He would have moved toward them but for the weight of the chaplet around his neck which seemed to anchor him to the spot.

From among them, one more beautiful and taller than all the rest stood forth and Draco couldn't help but fall to his knees in front of her. She smiled and her voice was gentle.

"_Magik__ blood in faerie sight_

_Met by good fortune on this night_

_Your heart's desire can set us free_

_Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee."_

            "What?" said Draco, confused. "You're granting me a wish?" The faerie queen nodded and continued.

"_Rosemary Rue and Sweet Orpine_

_Daisy Fern and Celadine_

_Worn by magik blood this night_

_Summons us to wearer's sight_

_Mortal since you have magik root_

_Be quick and put to me your suit."_

            They were not going to harm him. Apparently, through a series of coincidences, he had somehow had managed to summon them. And they could only be set free if they granted him a wish…

"_Hasten hasten set us free_

_Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee."_

            The fay folk were beginning to look impatient. Some had begun dancing around him in a circle, and the pace was picking up.

            One wish.

            Through the circle of bodies around him, he made out Hermione's form on the ground.

            "I wish…I wish…Hermione would fall in love with me." he whispered.

The faerie queen looked grave and shook her head.

"_Faerie power is strong and sweet_

_But mortal love's beyond our reach_

_We can move mountain and build town_

_But your lady must love you on her own"_

_            "All right then," Draco searched in his mind for another wish. _

Should he wish Hermione and himelf both back to the future? It seemed the most obvious thing to do…but no, they could do that themselves after Samhain. 

Should he wish them back to the part where they were doing their potions NEWT, so he could stop all this happening? But if he did so, would it mean all _this didn't happen in the first place? So how would he know how to stop her from mucking up the potion? Would they be stuck in a huge loop? And if she wasn't thrown back to the past, they wouldn't have had the opportunity to get to know each other better. No, Hermione would just have gone on with life and probably become Mrs Ron Weasley or Mrs Dean Thomas or whatever. He couldn't take that risk._

"_Hasten hasten set us free_

_Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee." The fairies were trapped till Draco released them with a wish. _

Draco knew they were trapped and took his time to think carefully….No, there was nothing wrong with their situation now. He didn't mind being in the past. In fact, he was intoxicated with the languorous slowness of the past and becoming addicted to having Hermione's company all to himself. No, these days were _great…Except for _one_ thing that hung over them…_

He knew what he wanted.

"I wish that I was not engaged to Blaise Zabini! It was the biggest mistake of my life!"

The fairie queen smiled and her court clapped and laughed.

_"So mote it be you've wish'd it well_

_May all you seek come from my spell…"_

She nodded to one of her court and the shimmering faerie bowed and flew away into Flinders Wood, returning in a second to kneel at his Queen's side. She listened for a second, and to Draco, it seemed a serious conversation passed between them though neither moved their lips. All this time, Draco was trapped, his body resisting his every impulse to move and join the fay in their revels. He felt the chaplet around his neck grow warm and felt grateful it was there. Who knows what he might have done had he not been wearing the simple charm.

Finally, the great Queen clapped her hands in delight. She reached forward and put a hand on Draco's head. It seemed that she touched him, and yet that she did not. Her hand felt like a cold breath of spring air on his head.

"_So mote it be, you've wished it well_

_May all you seek come from my spell_

_Queen Caelia will have that from this day_

_Your promis'd marriage fade away._

_And though your wish will come to be_

_Yet howfore, wherefore strange to see!_

_We fay-folk like to have our fun_

_But fear ye not, your wish is done!_

            Her hand grew even colder on his head and he grew dizzy. Through the chanting ring of fairies, he thought he saw two shadowy figures emerge from the wood and join them. He thought he recognized them…no, that _must a trick of the light! The other fairies turned to welcome the newcomers and Queen Caelia nodded at them, looking satisfied._

            At last, when Draco felt that he would freeze from the Queen's touch, she withdrew her hand and smiled mischievously at Draco. The fay-folk began to shimmer and grow transparent. The two shadowy figures which had emerged from the wood gradually turned as bright as their fay kin, till Draco could not make out which they were anymore. 

Dancing in a ring around him, they sang, repeating the Queen's strange warning…

"_Mortal kin, us you would test-_

_Faerie power can't be guessed_

_You will have your heart's desire_

_But tainted with our fairie fire_

_When things come to be the fairies' way_

_There always is a price to pay_

_We fay-folk like to have our fun_

_But fear ye not, your wish is done!_

_Our Queen she sits upon the strand,_

_Fair as lily, white as wand…"_

_               As their singing faded, Draco found he could move again. He shook his head. Had it all been a dream? Even as he tried to recall the forms and faces of the fay-folk, the memories faded from him. _Never deal with the fay,_ his mother had warned him when he was younger. __They do not think like us and can't be trusted. He shivered, remembering the cold touch of Queen Caelia's touch on his head. He found he had regained his power of movement and rushed over to where Hermione lay. He shook her gently._

               "Wake up!"

               Hermione stirred at last. "Mmm…what time is it?"

               "Past midnight. I've collected the fernseed, it's here in the pouch."

               Hermione yawned and sat up, "What!? You mean I fell asleep and you didn't wake me up?"

               "I tried to, but you were sleeping like a log. It doesn't matter, I've collected the fernseed anyway." He held out the bag to her.

               She opened it and nodded when she saw the golden pollen. Looking over at the fayfern patch, she noticed the white flowers were already beginning to wilt.

               "Okay then, but you really might have woken me up."

               "Hermione," Draco said nervously, "D'you feel all right?"

               "Of course. Why shouldn't I?" she said, getting to her feet and picking up her lamp.

               "Er…nothing." Draco said. "Are you sure you feel all right?"

               "Of course. What's up with you?" Hermione brushed down her dress. "You're acting very odd."

               He urgently wanted to test whether his wish had come true and could hardly contain himself from asking Hermione what he wanted to know. As they made their way back to his cottage and the stream, he plucked up courage to do it.

               "Hermione…"

               "Yes, Draco?" she said, yawning widely.

               "Er… do you remember…er…"

               "Do I remember what?"

               "Nothing." Draco mentally kicked himself. He didn't want to spoil the evening. They had just made up, what was the point of bringing all up now? What if the whole incident had been nothing more than a hallucination of some sort?

               "Go on Draco, remember what?" Hermione prompted. By now, they were out of the wood and walking down the stream back to the manor.

               "Remember that the fair is coming to town in a few weeks? I wonder if we could go together…we still haven't got our dove feather, and, from what I remember from History books, they sell all sorts of birds and livestock at these fairs."

               "Great idea!" exclaimed Hermione. "I would love to go. I've always wanted to see a real medieval fair- not like those tacky mock ups they have at stately homes. Just let me know when…. Wait- we need a better way to send messages to each other. It's nearly impossible to arrange to meet you. Maybe you could write me messages and pass them through one of the under-servants."

               "I think you've been reading too many stories," said Draco. "Seriously, what you're suggesting would never work. We'd be found out in a second."

               "Well then, what do we do?"

               "I don't know."

               "I'll think of something, Draco," she said, turning to face him. "Don't worry."

               "I'm not worried."

               "We're nearly at the manor. You'd better turn back." Hermione took off her chaplet and fingered it. "Seems like we didn't need these after all. Fay-folk…indeed!"

               Draco took it from her hands and gently placed it around her neck. "Please don't take it off till you're inside."

               She looked surprised, "Why Draco, I thought you said you didn't believe in them?"

               He shook his head, "Just promise me you won't take it off till you're inside."

               "All right. Are you feeling quite well? You look a little shaken." She stared hard at him.

               "I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

               "Good night, then."

               "Hermione?"

               "Yes?"

               He gently brushed his fingers through her hair, and she didn't resist. There was something special between them. Something almost tangible so that it hung shining in the air with the strong scent of the herbs they wore around their necks.

               "I think you're nearly ready to understand. I…I want to talk to you about some things. Myself mostly. But also about you. I need to."

               Hermione nodded, her eyes bright. "I understand."

               In the sweet, magical darkness of a late midsummer's eve, a young maiden hurried through the compound of the manor towards a small side-door. Before she let herself in, she paused and turned around. It seemed she was taking a moment to think about something.

               Finally, hurrying over to the herb gardens behind her, she searched by the light of her lamp through the bunches of green herbs that had begun to grow. Her fingers triumphantly closed upon a tiny five-pointed golden flower growing among a bushy patch of herb. She slipped it into her cloak pocket and made her way into the manor, quietly closing the door behind her.

               In the manor, the maiden tucked the golden flower under her pillow and lay down to sleep…perchance to dream.

                Soon, it would be light again. The magic of Midsummer's Eve was nearly over. In the woods, the fay-folk slipped across into their own realm, their mischief done for yet another year, leaving the mortal world with only fading echoes of their revelry…

_Philomel, with melody,_

_Sing in our sweet lullaby:_

_Lulla__, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:_

_Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,_

_Come__ our lovely lady nigh;_

_So good-night, with lullaby!_


	13. Chapter 13: Write Back Soon

**Chapter 13: Write Back Soon**

Harry Potter

12 Grimmauld Place

Wizarding London, UK

18 June 2005

Blaise Zabini

Villa de Zabini

Wizarding Nottingham

Dear Blaise,

I hope you have been quite well and have not been worrying over your wedding. I'm sure everything will work out in the end and that Draco is quite safe. As for me, I miss Hermione awfully- she was supposed to spend part of the holidays with Ron and I at The Burrow. We were going to take Ron and Ginny to visit parts of the muggle world they had never seen before. I tried to bring them on my own but we kept thinking about her so in the end, we just ended up staying at home.

I managed to teach Ron how to use a computer. I brought my lap-top computer along to The Burrow and the Weasleys were fascinated by it. Do you know what a computer is? It's a kind of electrical box with words that can appear on the screen and there is a place where you can press in words to spell them out. You can also play games on it. Not like Quidditch, but moving-picture games like Quake and Warhammer.

In the end, I had to teach Mr Weasley how to use it too. He kept begging me too and was really keen…actually, he's much better at it than Ron! Ron keeps getting all the keys muddled up. Mr Weasley's going to buy one for The Burrow now. I don't think Mrs Weasley's all that pleased, they cost hundreds of galleons. Mine was Dudley's (that's my cousin) old one so it was free.

I went to watch Ron at a few practices. He's really good but you should see the other England players. The coach tried to get me to sign on as keeper but I told him I already had another job.

Am I boring you? Maybe I should stop here. I'm looking forward to seeing you at the Ministry. I know you're going to be working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creature. I'm going to be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so maybe we can have lunch sometime? I start July 18. When do you start? Look after yourself and do write back soon.

Regards,

Harry

PS: Ginny has an extra ticket to Celestina Warbeck's concert on July 12 and asks if you would like to go with her. I can't stand Celestina Warbeck, unfortunately!

********************************************** 

**Isen**** Guard Insurance**

24, Rashun Alley

Wizarding London, UK

25 June 2005

Mr and Mrs G Granger

15 Kellet Mews

Surrey, UK

Dear Mr and Mrs Granger,

RE: Insurance Pay Out for Completely Out-of-the-blue Magical Accident Under Clause 5.53 Of Your Premium Protection Plan

            We have been informed by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry about the unfortunate disappearance of your daughter Miss Hermione Granger on Monday, 20 May 2005, during her Potions NEWT. Our investigations show that this qualifies as a Completely Out-of-the-blue Magical Accident Resulting in Loss of Life or Limb under Clause 5.53 of your daughter's Premium Protection Plan which she was automatically covered by as a student in Hogwarts.

            Under the circumstances, you are entitled to a pay out of 100,000 galleons with no terms or conditions attached. Please collect the pay-out from us in person anytime during working hours. We require you to bring along a copy of your passports as proof of identity.

We understand that your daughter has a high possibility of re-appearing in the near future. Upon this happy occurrence, you will be pleased to learn that you are still entitled to keep the pay-out. Should you require any legal assistance, please address a letter to us  via owl and c/c it to our legal department.

            Our greatest sympathy on your sad loss.

Yours Sincerely,

Jeremiah Higgs

Claims Manager

Isen Guard Insurance

************************************************ 

Blaise Zabini

Villa de Zabini

Wizarding Nottingham, UK

30 June 2005

Ronald Weasley

The Burrow

Ottery St Catchpole

Wizarding Devon, UK

Dear Ron,

Thanks for your last letter. I am thrilled that you now know how to use the contuper. Are you sure that's how it's spelled? Harry wrote telling me he taught you and your father how to use it and he spelled it differently in his letter. Thanks for offering to teach me, I would be happy to learn.

It's really strange that you and Harry should both mention contupers in your letters. There has been a big blow-up in my household about contupers. You see, Mr. Edward Montague is Draco's lawyer and since he disappeared, Mr Montague has been administering the Malfoy estate. It happens that Mr Montague is an old friend of my father's and, my father managed to persuade him to release some details of the Malfoy fortune on the grounds that I was Draco's wife-to-be. Mr Montague really didn't want to, of course, because of confidentiality and all that, but my father can be very persuasive.

Anyway, it turned out that in the last year, Draco had re-invested millions of galleons of the Malfoy fortune into these contuper industries. He also pulled out Lucius' deposits in Gringotts and put it all into the muggle music industry. I'm only telling you because you and Harry seem to know what these contupers are. Did Draco make a big mistake? My father seemed to think so- he really thinks Draco should have stuck to investing in our traditional wizard resources like Spell Research and Real Estate.

My father is not taking the situation very well. He's still worried to death that with Draco gone and no one to take charge of the Malfoy fortune, it will decline rapidly. The good thing is that he's agreed to let me go to work at the Ministry for as long as Draco is not around. Then he says I must give up my work to run the manor.

I am looking forward to my first day at work- I've always loved working with Magical Creatures. I start on the same day as Harry and have already written to ask him out to lunch on that day. Shall I tell you a secret, Ron? I've always wanted to be …a dragon handler! You must be laughing at me when you read this, but it's true. I know your brother Charlie is one, do you think you could ask him more about it for me? I would really like to find out more about it.

It was really sweet of you to send me the musical box for my birthday. How did you even know it was my birthday? I think it's really pretty and I shall take it to work to put in my new office.

By the way, don't worry about Hermione. Draco is not as bad a person as you wrote in your letter. I'm sure that if the situation calls for it, they'll get along. Anyway, from what I know of Hermione, she's more than capable of handling Draco by herself!

Do write back soon,

Blaise

*************************************************** 

Ron Weasley

The Burrow

Ottery St Catchpole

Wizarding Devon, UK

12 July 2005

Harry Potter

12 Grimmauld Place

Wizarding London

Dear Harry,

Great news…I saved five great goals during the friendly against Wales yesterday. In the end, their seeker caught the snitch though, too bad. Quidditch practice is awesome! You should see the stunts they make us do here…I had to practice hanging upside down from my broom for ten whole minutes yesterday. I heard we're going to play the Chudley Cannons in a practice match next week. I'm really nervous about that one. Me, Ron Weasley…play against the Chudley Cannons!

Dad finally bought the computer. I realized I'd been spelling it wrong for ages after I looked at the box. He's been at it every spare moment of his time for the last week. It's driving mum nuts and he took it to the office to show off. Last I heard, mum's borrowed some Gagging Gluey Bubblegum from Fred and George to paste the sides of the computer together. Now dad can't open it for at least three days. I'll bet he gets a shock when he tries to open it at work today.

I've written to Blaise to tell her everything I know about computers. She's really quite keen on it and, do you think she would mind if I asked her over here one day to teach her more on Dad's computer? It'll have to be after the Gagging Gluey Bubblegum wears off, of course. How was your first day at work? Blaise mentioned she met up with you and Seamus and Mandy Brocklehurst for lunch. Wish I was there, I kind of miss everyone. Of course, Quidditch is great but it does get kind of lonely sometimes. Maybe it's because I keep thinking that Hermione's not here. Do you still miss her a lot Harry? It's too bad that as Dumbeldore said, they'll have to wait till Samhain to perfect the Reverse Thyme Eliminus. I bet she's having an awful time with that slimy git.

Anyway, that's all for now. Mum's going on at me about leaving my muddy Quidditch boots in the hallway. 

Ta! Ron

PS: Thanks for asking me to your birthday party. Of course I'll be there. Did you ask Blaise as well?

**************************************************** 

Harry Potter

Ministry of Magic

Level 2 - Department of Magical Law Enforcement

(Auror Headquarters)

Wizarding London

18 July

Ron Weasley

The Burrow

Ottery St Catchpole

Wizarding Devon, UK

Dear Ron,

Hey old chap, I'm really busy with at work right now. Kingsley Shacklebolt just gave me a whole lot of maps to plot werewolf territory on and I have to send it out by owl to the various alert-stations by tonight.

I'm just writing to say that I got your letter and thanks a bunch! Wish you would write more, but I guess I am in no position to do ask that seeing as I don't write regularly either ha ha! Guess what, I bumped into Terry Boot yesterday (he's at Catastrophes in the Ministry) and he said that Draco Malfoy is sitting on the director's board of several _muggle companies. Apparently, he invested heavily in them after Lucius got sent to Azkaban and they were all asking about his disappearance. Huge job to cover that up and Terry said that he and the chaps at the Muggle Worthy Excuse Comnittee were working overtime to sort that mess out. Fancy that- a Malfoy investing in _muggle_ companies! Lucius would have something to say about that I'm sure._

Anyway, the real point of this letter is to let you know that I _did_ invite Blaise to my birthday party. I'll see you all at the Black Salamander at 8 pm. Please tell Ginny to bring along my blue jacket, I just remembered I left it somewhere in her room when I was at your place.

Cheerio

Harry

******************************************* **

**Ministry of Magic**

Level 3 - Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes

(Research and Testing Department)

Wizarding London, UK

20 July 2005

Professors Albus Dumbledore/Severus Snape

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hogsmeade

Wizarding Edinburgh, Scotland

Dear Professors Dumbledore and Snape,

RE: Micro-Analysis Result of Thyme Eliminus Potion Sample

We refer to the sample of Thyme Eliminus Potion which you sent to us for Micro Analysis on 30 May 2005. As you requested, an extremely detailed Micro-Analysis of the sample was carried out by our experts. We are pleased to list a detailed breakdown of the potion components below:

**Thyme Eliminus Sample Breakdown:**

**Active Components                            Standard**

dove feather – 16.17 %                        v                                  

(litha) fernseed – 4. 83 %                      v

(samhain)heather – 2.35 %                   v

(samhain)mullein – 2.65 %                    v

(samhain)patchouli – 3.26 %                 v

(samhain)sage – 1.74 %                        v

fay dust – 0.50 %                                 x

dried thyme – 29.00%                          v

**Inactive Components**

Wood ash – 5.62 %                             v

Water – 30.38%                                  v

Microparticles – 3.50%                                    ---

Your sample has been forwarded to the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad for their action although the presence of non-standard components in the sample could mean a delay in final results.

We are pleased to be of assistance to you.

Regards,

Alix Zeller

Head of Research and Testing Department


	14. Chapter 14: A Face Like A Rose

**Chapter 14: A Face Like A Rose**

            "Your mother would be pleased to see that you seem to be working hard on your sewing," said Mary to Hermione.

            Hermione's needle flew in and out of a dark blue piece of cloth. Just because she detested sewing didn't mean couldn't sew well. She was concentrating so hard on finishing a seam that she didn't reply to Mary's casual observation.

            Mary smiled at her mistress. Since midsummer, the girl's spirits had improved. She had stopped losing weight and a bloom had appeared on her cheeks. Mary wondered to herself if the ritual of Feill-Sheathain had anything to do with it, but was too prudent to ask Hermione. Some things, Mary knew, a girl wished to keep in her heart.

            Father Lorenzo too had also been pleased with Hermione's improved attention after Midsummer. The girl was smart, just as he and her father had always known, and had a good grasp of Latin. She could memorize passages with ease these days and hardly missed a single one. Besides that, she had stopped quarreling with him over the bible, and preferred to partake in interested questioning.

            "Father Lorenzo, you said that wives must submit themselves to their husbands in all things, but what does the bible say that Husbands must do on their part? For it seems unfair to me that we wives serve them like animals."

            "Husbands, mistress, must love their wives and be not bitter against them. They are responsible for their happiness and care. So you see, the Christian family is one filled with love."

            "You are right, for it is surely impossible to serve without love. I would rather not marry than have to serve without love. Did we not read in 1 Corinthians 13… _et si distribuero in cibos pauperum…"_

             " …Though you bestow all your goods to feed the poor, and though you give your body to be burned, if you have not love, it profiteth you nothing." The priest eyed her thoughtfully, continuing, "Your father is wise not to force you into a loveless marriage. For it is the greater sin than to let you remain a virgin for life."

            Hermione nodded and turned her attention back to the Psalms.

            Father Lorenzo watched Hermione's lips move silently as she committed to memory yet another Psalm. He found himself filled with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. 

She would be saved.

He had always known that she would start to show a genuine interest in scripture one day, despite her unsteady start to Christian life…

            Hermione didn't know all these thoughts that passed through Father Lorenzo's mind. A lax church-goer back in her own time, she now found plenty of time to reflect on Christian teachings in the long summer days and slow routine of manor life. Besides a genuine emotional interest in the scripture, she also had an academic interest in the craft of the Latin language and the history of the Semites. Studying scripture reminded her of her days spent studying in Hogwarts, days which she missed sorely.

As she carefully joined another two seams of her cloth, Mary patted her on her shoulder kindly.

            "May I ask what you are sewing, M'Lady?"

            "I am practicing my dress-making on this practice pattern. Senor Vittorio has sent the fabrics I have chosen to be tailored in London, but I have reserved a piece for myself. I want to try my hand at sewing."

            "You are industrious indeed. Your mother will be glad to hear of this. And I am glad to see you had the sense to practice on a piece of coarse cloth before attempting your dress on one of Senor Vittorio's fabrics."

            Hermione mentally chided herself for telling a little white lie.

            "Yes, Mary."

            Mary left the room eventually and Hermione slipped across the room and locked the door. Excitedly, she lifted up the blue material of simple cotton and laid it over the bed. Hermione tucked the selvedge inwards under the bodice and ran a line of tacking along the edge. She had copied it from memory after seeing what the under-servants wore. The fabric she had stolen from a large store of scrap cloth her mother kept for practicing stitches.

            She had told Mary a white lie. This wasn't a practice dress. Every stitch she made in this dress was a stitch closer to sneaking out to the fair with Draco dressed as a peasant girl. In five days, her new dress would be finished. 

In another hour, Hermione rubbed her eyes. It was difficult to sew by candlelight, but she had no choice if she wanted to finish it on time. She decided it was time to stop for the night and she carefully packed up the nearly-complete dress and placed it in an enormous chest and locked it. The key she slipped under her bed. Then, taking her candle with its stand, Hermione let herself out of the room and crept down the worn stone stairs to the kitchen. Running swiftly through the deserted kitchen to the tiny corridor with the side door to the outer compound, she knelt down and her fingers felt for a gap under the paving stone that was situated half-way in and half-way out of the door.

Her excited, shaking, fingers moved the heavy stone upwards. She grinned when she felt the tiny sheet of parchment hidden in the narrow gap under the flag-stone. 

By the flickering candlelight, Hermione read the written message from Draco:

_Thanks for the ink and quill. Leave me a sign you got this._

            Hermione's heart was beating so loudly she was sure the whole manor could hear it. Her plan had worked! They could finally communicate without seeing each other directly! She felt in the folds of her dress and took out a small piece of parchment. It contained her neat handwriting, saying:

_This works. Am excited about the fair. Five more days! Give details for meeting up._

Putting it into the small gap in the earth, she shifted back the paving stone. 

Grabbing up Draco's small bit of parchment and her candle, she crept back to her room. Her heart was pounding with excitement. This was just like all those adventures with Harry and Ron back in Hogwarts!

            Snuggling into bed, Hermione gave herself up to sleep. By now, the little golden flower had withered under her pillow and all that was left was a fragrant, dried, brown scrap. Hermione didn't remove it, because its sweet scent reminded her of a very special midsummer night's dream.

************************************************* 

            Audley patiently explained the accounts again to his mistress. The new barn would be ready to take in the extra-large harvest by October- but, even if they kept at it night and day, the mill was not ready to grind so much extra wheat. They would have to arrange transport for the extra wheat to the neighbouring town to be ground. This would mean paying tax to the neighbouring lord for use of his mill…So, was there any way she could think of to avoid that?

            "Why didn't you ask my father this question?" Hermione asked, at a loss.

            Audley looked apologetic. "It was a problem that was overlooked."

            Hermione thought hard, "Well….how far is it to this next town?"

            "Aldeburgh is fifty miles North"

            "Can it be covered in a day?"

            "With a swift horse, yes."

            "And how long will it take for peasants wheeling their cartloads of grain there?"

            "About four days – two there and two back"

            "So we lose four working days…Do we even have enough carts for that?"

            Audley looked perplexed. "Oh dear…"

            "Is there no other way of milling?"

            Fanhope spoke up, "There are handmills. A few peasants own them, but we stopped them from using it because then they wouldn't pay taxes for using Lord Granger's water mill."

            "Handmills! Of course! Let the peasants use their handmills!"

            Audley and Fanhope exchanged glances, "But M'Lady" said Fanhope, "Lord Granger specifically told us not to let them use their handmills. Because of the taxes we would not collect from the use of our mill if they did so…"

            Hermione smiled, "Well, that's very simple then. You simply have to let them…or we not only _not__ collect the money, we __lose money to Lord Aldeburgh."_

            Audley looked grim and wrote some figures down into his book of accounts. His mistress was right. At least the plan she devised would save them from _paying_ money to Lord Aldeburgh. Fanhope was looked at Hermione in admiration.

            Hemrione smiled back at him.

            "Mistress, you have a keen head for figures." Fanhope said. "Why, I understand now why Lord Granger oft wish'd you were a lad. You would have goodly charge of this manor."

            "My father often wish'd I was a boy?"

            Audley looked up from his accounts, "Aye, heard him myself just before he left for Lancashire. He is full proud of his house and his lands, and wish'd it did not have to go to another when you marry, mistress."

            Hermione shook her head, "Perhaps I shall never marry then."

            "But if you enter a nunnery, all his lands will go to the Church."

            "Is that the only option for me?"

            "Aye, and should these lands be sold to the Church, us villagers of Mildenstowe will till and plough for a harsh master indeed. For 'tis well known that no master is as harsh as the church." said Audley.

"Your family has done right by us. Lord Granger has stood against the County when they wanted to raise tithes. He looks after us well- in the town, your family is spoken of fondly." added Fanhope.

            "Your father takes his duties most seriously. Your family is greatly esteemed. But Mildenstowe will suffer if the church gets its hands on our land- its thirst for taxes and tithes is boundless, and the Crown will back it."

            Hermione was surprised. So far, her only encounter with the church had been lessons with Father Lorenzo. He seemed a kind and gentle priest, she could not imagine him as a task-master.

            "You are thinking perhaps of Father Lorenzo…" said Fanhope, reading her thoughts. "Father Lorenzo is a rare piece. His merciful nature and ideas are not often found in the clergy. It was exactly this that endear'd him to Lord Granger in the first place and caused him to be installed as permanent Chapelmaster. For Lord Granger needed comforting when you…." Fanhope turned red. Audley made a quick movement with his hand and the two men exchanged glances.

            "When I what?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

            Fanhope had turned away and took the book from Audley. The steward looked very upset at what the bailiff had revealed. 

            "When you…were younger, your father faced some… troubles. But which Lord does not? The crown and the church and the peasants pull him in all directions" finished Audley, on Fanhope's behalf.

            "What trouble in the past?"

            "T'was nought." Said Fanhope, avoiding Audley's furious glare. "A mere trifle."

            "Thank you for your help, M'Lady" said Audley, "We will report to you tomorrow." The steward and bailiff bowed and quickly took themselves off.

            Something had happened in the past that made Lord Granger seek solace in Father Lorenzo's merciful and comforting words. What had happened? Hermione was mildly curious, she would ask Mary, first. Then if that didn't work, she would tackle the old priest himself.

            As for now, Hermione stretched and stood up from her father's desk. She went up to her bedroom and locked herself in quietly. Taking a small piece of parchment from inside a hidden pocket of her dress, she read it for the tenth time that day.

_I'll see you at my place 3 tomorrow. Don't get caught. Don't be late._

            She held it to the candle flame and watched its edges curl and blacken. Tomorrow seemed so far away!

            A few hours later, Hermione still had not forgotten Audley and Fanhope's strange behaviour and comments.

            "Mary," Hermione  placed a hand on her maid's hand as she sat playing cards with her.

            "What is it?"

            "I would like to know how Father Lorenzo got to be appointed Chapelmaster here at Granger Mansion."

            If Hermione hadn't been looking for efforts of concealment in her maidservant, she would have missed it. As it was, she noticed how Mary's hands began to shake as she dealt the cards.

            "It was a long time ago, I'm sure I can't remember. He was appointed soon after your birth."

            "You said you came here one year after my birth to be my nurse, surely you know something of it."

            "Why, the church appoints such positions," said Mary brightly, as if relieved to have hit upon a good excuse. But Hermione knew more than that.

            "No, my father was the one who installed him as Chapelmaster." She said gently. "Why did my father choose him? What trouble was there in the past?"

            Mary's fingers nervously fingered her hand of cards.

            "It's your turn," Mary said. "What do you call?"

            "Mary" Hermione took the cards from the old lady's hands. "Please, _please tell me. You are dear as mother to me."_

            "Child, why do you ask me now? Eighteen years we have not spoken of it. Why do you ask now? Who did you hear this from?"

            Hermione nearly gave out the names of Audley and Fanhope, but she stopped herself. No point getting them involved. "I heard it from a reliable source. But they would not tell me more."

            Mary put her hand on Hermione's face. There was a far-off look in her eyes as she said, "A child with a face like a rose. I dreamt of you. It was on Feill-Sheathain. But you were not a dream, you are real. I cared for you eighteen summers…you are real."

            "Why shouldn't I be real?" Hermione was scared. The old lady's voice was scaring her. She looked like Professor Trelawney about to go into one of her trances.

            Mary patted Hermione's soft brown hair and squeezed her arm. "I never regretted a moment of it. I know you are a good, holy, child of god. You have a playful nature, and are too beautiful… but that does not make you…" The maidservant smiled and picked up her cards again.

            "What?!" said Hermione desperately. "What is wrong with me!"

            Mary laughed, "Don't be silly child. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I bathed and fed you since you were a wee baby and you are as strong and healthy and beautiful as daughters are made. So put all these silly notions out of your head. As for Father Lorenzo, he was here when I arrived and I have asked no questions since then. If you knew what was good for you, you'd ask no questions too!"

            Mary's voice had taken on a stern edge. Hermione knew the conversation was over. Frustratedly, she picked up her hand of cards and savagely threw one down onto the table. She made up her mind to get to the bottom of this. She would work on the priest next, then on her parents. There was something strange going on here. That it involved her in some way was what troubled her. She would get to the bottom of things.

****************************************** 

            Draco yawned and turned over on his hard straw bed. He had swept out his cottage after coming home from work, somehow, he didn't want Hermione to think he couldn't keep a clean house. He had washed his clothes and scrubbed himself off in the stream. It was now warm enough to bathe in the stream and it was one of the things he looked forward to after a hard day's work.

The next day was Wednesday, and the servants had been given three days off to go to the fair where they could trade goods, watch plays and generally make merry. Draco looked forward to it. The thought of going to a medieval fair would have bored him silly back in Malfoy Manor, but, after two months of hard labour without a single chance at frivolity, the fair seemed to him a wildly exciting event.

He also knew that he looked forward to it because Hermione would be going with him. He hoped she had managed to plan her sneaking out properly. So far, she had managed to think of a great many devious ways for them to sneak in touch- but sneaking out to go to a fair with him? How on earth was she going to manage that? 

He thought of the small piece of parchment which rested next to a red hair ribbon in his pocket. It read,

_Will be there at 3 tomorrow.__ Have a surprise for you!_

Tomorrow he would tell her everything. 

Tomorrow he would see if his wish had come true.

Tomorrow was sweet with promise. 

He blew out his candle and went to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15: To Market, To Market

**Chapter 15: To Market, To Market, To Catch A…**

"Surprise!"

            Draco's eyes widened.

            There was a plainly clad peasant lady on his doorstep. Her hair was modestly pinned up at the back of her neck and she wore a simple dress of coarse blue cotton.

            "Hermione?"

            "The one and only," she said and curtsied, pleased to see the effect her change of outfit had on him.

            "Where did you get that dress?"

            "I sewed it!" she said proudly, twirling around on his doorstep to show off her handiwork.

            "I didn't know you could sew!"

            "Well, I told you it was a surprise."

            "And have you dome something new with your hair?" asked Draco.

            "Latest style in London… the peasant look"

            "Well then I'm really cutting-edge" Draco said, and they both laughed. "It's nice…not your hair…I mean, your hair of course, but I mean the whole thing. You look good" he said quickly.

            "Thanks" she said.

            Hermione and Draco faced each other at the door of his cottage, both suddenly a bit shy.

            "Shall we go?" he asked.

            "Lead on."

            Draco stepped out of his cottage and latched the door. There was no lock or key. There was nothing worth stealing inside anyway. They started along a worn path through the field, toward the smoke curling in the air from the main part of the town. It was a beautiful summer's afternoon- hot and breezy, with the smell of hay in the air.

            Hermione carried a basket on her arm, as she had seen other peasant ladies do. Eventually, she couldn't resist swinging it in the air as they walked along. 

            "To market to market to catch a fat pig…" she sang softly.

            "We're not going to get a pig. We're looking for a dove." said Draco seriously.

            "It's a child's rhyme, silly." Hermione said. "Home again, home again, jiggety jig."

            "Say another one"

            "Lady, lady on the sea-shore, she has children one to four, the eldest one is twenty-four, then she shall marry a: tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man,  
beggar-man, thief!" Hermione skipped in time to the old skipping-rope rhyme she remembered from Primary school.

            "You sure know a lot of crazy muggle rhymes" said Draco.

            "Don't you wizard children learn rhymes when you were young?"

            "Yes…" Draco said, thinking of the times when Lucius had left Narcissa to look after him entirely by herself. She would sing to him them, something that she dared not do when his father was around- Lucius thought it was "sissy". Those had been wonderful times, but rare indeed.

            "Go on."

            "It's silly" Draco said.

            "Oh come on…I just sang a rhyme about a pig."

            "Ok…but you'll laugh…

…There is a cow on the mountain,  
A fair white cow  
She goes East and she goes West,  
And my senses have gone for love of her  
She goes with the sun and he forgets to burn,  
And the moon turns her face with love to her,  
My fair white cow of the mountain!"

            Draco said it all in a rush and his face was red. He hadn't recited that rhyme for years and was surprised he still remembered it. He thought Hermione would laugh at him but instead, she clapped her hands in delight.

            "Wow! That's fantastic!"

            "You think so?" Draco felt better.

            "Sure…I never knew there were wizarding rhymes for children."

            "Sure there are…my fair white cow of the mountain," he said, and patted her on the head.

            She grinned.  "I go East, and I go West…"

            "My senses have gone for the love of you…" he said, softly, keeping a steady pace at her side.

            "I go with the sun and he forgets to burn…" she continued.

            "And the moon turns her face with love to you…"

            "My fair white cow of the mountain"

            "Cows have four stomachs, d'you know?" Draco teased. "No wonder you always ate such a lot at Hogwarts."

            Hermione looked up, smiling mischievously.

            "Come closer," she said.

Draco leaned forward and she bent towards his ear…

            "MOOoooOO!"

            "AAaagghhhh!"

            Hermione giggled at the stunned look on Draco's face…"I'll get you!"

            …Hermione shrieked and ran away from him…

            And that was how they ran all the rest of the way to the fayre.

            Draco was glad Hermione could run so fast. He didn't quite know what he would have done if he had caught her…

            They found themselves on the fringes of a thick crowd. The fayre had attracted folk from all the neighbouring towns as well. It was noisy and full of smells. The guilds had set up large stalls each covering a section of the town and their banners flew high declaring their trade- whether it be wool, or cloth, or smithying. Individual traders had also set up stalls trading or selling goods such as leather-work, shoes, pots, pans, knives, baubles and foods.

            Hermione felt overwhelmed by the noise and smells. She had been kept away in the manor for so long that she was no longer used to the large crowd- which was really no worse than the Saturday crowd on Oxford Street. There were so many people! All around her, peasant men and women went around with baskets shouting and laughing with each other. Well-dressed guildsmen, merchants and upper-servants could also occasionally be glimpsed making their way through the crowd. Gaily-dressed acrobats and players wandered by. Some of them were wearing gaudy masks.

            "You all right?" she felt Draco touch her arm.

            "Yes," she said. But the truth was, she didn't know where to go or what to do!

            "Let's go look for the livestock" he said, holding her arm and steering her through the crowd.

            They seemed to walk for ages. The town of Mildenstowe was much bigger than she had ever imagined! There were three storied houses lining the streets, and well-paved roads ran through the town. And all this was owned and run by her father?

            "This way I think" Draco said, leading her down a slightly less crowded street. From somewhere, Hermione could hear the piping of a flute.

            "Oh!" she gasped suddenly, and put her hand to her nose.

            "Yes, we must be near." Draco said, screwing up his face as well.

            They emerged into a clearing flanked on two sides by low buildings and opening out onto a field. Drovers of cattle, sheep, pigs, geese, chickens and horses were spread thickly over the field as far as the eye could see. People were haggling and shouting and the smell was overpowering.

            Hermione gingerly gathered her skirts about her and stepped through the droppings.

            "Where are we going?"

            "To the fowl" muttered Draco, gingerly stepping through the muck on the ground.

            "Ugh…it's pretty foul here already"

            Hermione followed him, feeling hot and sweaty from the crowd and sun.

            Eventually, they reached the section which sold chickens and geese. A peasant couple had bought six geese and were tying their necks together with a cord. Amidst the squawking and honking, Draco greeted the stall holder and asked him, "D'ye have doves?"

            "Loaves?" said the fat peasant curiously.

            "Doves!" yelled Draco.

            "DOVES?" bellowed the man, "Ye be wantin' doves? Ye'd best be tryin' over't, wit' them quails and pheasant though I t'aint nivver seen doves afore sold."

            "Thank ye" said Draco.

            Hermione smiled weakly at the peasant who was rubbing his head curiously and followed Draco over to another stall on the other side of the field. The stock here was all game-fowl and the bloodied carcasses of pheasant, pigeon and quail were laid out row upon row at each stall like a bizarre death carpet. Hermione began to feel queasy. The sun beat relentlessly down.

            Draco was speaking to one of the stall-holders and the man looked surprised.

"Doves? Them be gen'tlmen's birds, each rare a-piece. Ye migh' find'em at the traders or gamers back over't. I think I seen them bein' sold a pair a guinea. That be a bit out of t'range for ye wouldt'nt?...Er… Young'un, your lady looks a bit faint. Tis best you look to her, the heat o 't day can get tryin"

Draco turned and saw Hermione standing limply by his side. She looked worn out and pale.

"Thank ye" he said and quickly put his arms around her shoulders.

"Tis best ye take her over't traders and gamers. There be seatin' and shade there, and the best ale this side o'Aldeburgh."

"Sorry…it's the heat…and…and the smell" apologized Hermione as Draco walked her back to the town centre. "I need to… sit down."

"Ok, hang in there. We're nearly at the benches."

They arrived back at the town square. There were benches and crude tables set up all around. Clearly, Hermione wasn't the only lady affected by the heat. Peasant ladies were seated on the benches all around fanning themselves and drinking ale. Men were leaning on the tables, playing dice and shouting.

"Sit here, I'll get you a drink."

"Thanks"

Draco wandered off to one of the ale stalls. He fingered the coins in his pocket. He only had six coins…how on earth were they going to be able to afford the dove?

"Two  mugs" he said to the stall holder and handed over two of his coins. He only had four left. He returned to Hermione with crude tin mugs of ale. It was cool and refreshing.

Hermione drank thirstily. All that time in corsets and living in the manor must have softened her! She used to be able to keep up with Harry and Ron on all their adventures, and she couldn't even survive a medieval fair now!

"Feel better?"

"Yes, loads" she said. Draco was sitting next to her, so close that their sides touched. It was a very crowded bench.

"Er…Hermione. We've got a problem…I…I…don't have enough money to buy the dove." Draco wanted to laugh. The words sounded so ludicrous. He thought of his Malfoy account at Gringott's back home and his purse which always contained more galleons than he knew what to do with.

"Oh that's all right," Hermione said calmly, taking a sip of her drink. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I've got a pouch of guineas with me. How much do you have?"

So this is how it felt to be poor! He was going to have to ask Hermione to pay for everything! "I have four silver coins" he said dully. "Those are my wages for the week. I had six but I just used two to buy us our drinks."

"What?! You used a third of your pay to buy our drinks?" Hermione sputtered on her ale.

"That's me…the big spender." He said, draining his mug.

"Oh Draco… Next time, I'll pay."

"It's the first time I've spent a third of all I own on someone."

"Thanks" she said, "I mean it."

"It's pretty scary, having so little. But you know what, I don't really have anything to buy anyway. Back in the future, I got so bored with spending my money…I bought horses for Malfoy Manor, I bought house-elves, more dress-robes than I knew what to do with…To tell you the truth, these drinks are the first things I've bought in three months. I guess one doesn't really need a lot to be happy."

Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Draco had certainly changed. He wasn't the spoilt brat she had known back in Hogwarts anymore.

"You're happier now? I thought you hated life as a peasant."

"It's funny…it's not that I like it. But things don't seem to matter so much anymore. I don't get so upset over things. It…It's what I said I needed to talk to you about. It's like these three months, I've sorted myself out. Had time to think, which I didn't have time to do back in the future."

"Me too" nodded Hermione. "Isn't it odd? Like these three months were actually good for us. Maybe being sent back in time wasn't so bad after all."

"And we got to …" Draco said quietly.

"Buy a ribbon for your sweetheart?" a voice with a heavy accent interrupted them.

They looked up and saw a smiling old lady with a basket full of colourful ribbons. They both blushed furiously. "Go on, lad. She's lovely…and with one of these in her hair, she'll be lovelier still."

"He's not my…"

"Okay" said Draco, taking out his purse. "Which colour would you like, Hermione?"

"Draco…you shouldn't spend anymore on me!"

"There, there, lass. I know a bonny couple when I see one, and this lad wants to buy you something pretty. It's just one silver coin."

"Go on Hermione, choose one."

"But Draco…"

Draco dipped his hand into the lady's basket and picked up a light blue satin ribbon. It was perfect for her.

"We'll take this." He said and gave the lady the silver coin. The old woman smiled and bit the coin, putting it away in the folds of the dress.

"Look after her lad," she said, "she's a true rose." The old woman gave them a shrewd glance and lowered her voice, "…and you are a strong young sapling indeed. Well met, this day! Look after her… oh! Well met Draco and Hermione!" she chuckled and moved away.

Draco and Hermione were stunned. 

"Wh-What did she say?" said Hermione.

Draco's fingers had frozen around the blue ribbon. "Where did she go?"

But the old woman had disappeared.

"Sh-she said…she called us…"

"It's impossible" said Draco shortly. "It's her accent. She must've said _fare _ye well and bonny_ or something."_

"B-But…"

Draco placed the soft blue ribbon in Hermione's hands. "She's only an old woman…don't worry about it. I'm sure we heard wrong."

"B-But…"

"Put on the ribbon, go on."

Hermione lifted her arms and began tying the ribbon around her bun. It was a brilliant light blue, like the sky on that day.

"It's lovely, thank you" she said.

"It goes with your eyes."

Hermione instantly lowered her eyes, feeling shy.

"Let's go and get our doves," she said, standing up and jingling the gold guineas in her pouch.

**************************************** 

            As it turned out, they didn't just get their doves. When they headed back to Draco's cottage, Hermione's basket was filled to the brim with food of all sort. She had insisted on buying cheeses, hams, chewets and pies.

            "We'll never finish all of this!" protested Draco, lugging the heavy basket beside her.

            "You'll see" Hermione said. _He's getting awfully thin._ She thought. _I'm glad I bought as much food as I could. Anything we can't finish tonight he can eat over the next few days. Ha, I am buying food for Draco Malfoy. What would Harry and Ron have to say about this!_

            In Hermione's hand, she swung a cage containing two snowy white doves. They hadn't been hard to get at all… after that strange encounter with the ribbon lady, they had gone over to the foreign traders and easily found one selling exotic birds. Hmm, the strange ribbon lady…who was she? And had she really called them…

            "Are you still thinking about her?" Draco asked.

            Hermione was startled. "Yes."

            "We heard wrong, I'm sure" he said, unlatching the door to his cottage and kicking it open.

            "How can you be so sure?"

            "She had such a thick accent. She could have said an old celtic greeting or something."

            "No it's not just that, " Hermione said, slowly putting the doves on the floor of the cottage, "Now I remember. She said I was 'a true rose'. That's really odd."

            Draco shrugged, unpacking some of the food from the basket. "She only means to say you're…well, you're p-pretty, Hermione."

            She was too distracted to notice his stammer. "No, you don't understand. My old nursemaid, Mary, always says I have a face like a rose. Isn't that a strange coincidence?"

            Draco grinned, "Ok, ok, Hermione. We know lots of people think you're pretty. It's an expression, that's all."

            "You don't think it's strange?"

            "She also called me a young sapling… it's called _simile_ Hermione. When you compare one thing with another. Didn't they teach you that in muggle primary?"

            Hermione wondered whether to start telling Draco about what she had learned about her childhood back at the manor. Somehow, she couldn't help feeling it was all connected but she decided that now was not a good time to start on the big mystery. At least, not till she had tackled the priest about it and found out more. She furrowed her brow. "I think it's odd that's all….hey! Where're you taking all that food?"

            Draco was at the door, with a basket half-full of various foods.

            "We're going for a picnic. You don't think we'd eat in this musty dump do you?"

            "Where're we going?"

            "I'll show you, c'mon."

            Draco held the door open for Hermione as she followed him, dove cage in hand.

            "This way." He walked towards Flinders wood but turned towards the stream. They followed the stream downhill for a short while, skirting the wood, till they came to a small grassy embankment filled with wildflowers.

            "Oh! What a wonderful place!" Hermione was enchanted.

            "Yeah- I discovered it when I did a bit of exploring after Midsummer. I was… exploring." In truth, he had been searching for signs of the fay. So far, he had no way of finding out if his wish had come true yet and he had often wondered since then if it was all some bizarre dream he had had. Draco dumped the basket on the ground and began stripping off his shirt.

            "What're you doing?!" gasped Hermione.

            "What's it look like? I'm going to swim. Care to join me?"

            Hermione turned away as Draco's bare torso appeared in front of her. She felt even more shy than when she had first seen him shirtless after his flogging. He was very muscular now, if not more than a bit too lean. Somehow, she couldn't quite look at him the same way any more.

            "Don't worry, I'm keeping my hose on" he winked.

            "Like you would dare not to." she said.

            "Well, care to join me? You'd have to step out of that lovely dress you sewed" Draco said, cocking his head to one side and grinning wickedly.

            "Certainly not!" Hermione said, aghast at the idea. She couldn't believe she was letting Draco tease her like this and she wasn't even really upset!

            "Suit yourself," he said, and leapt into the stream. It was shallow- only up to his waist, but deep enough for him to swim around in it. Hermione settled herself as near to the edge as she dared. It certainly was very hot. She began to wish she had the nerve to strip off her dress and join him. She had loved to swim back in the future. Oh, if only she had her bathing suit with her. She noticed the white scars on Draco's back and felt pleased that the flogging had healed properly.

            "Ahhh….the water's so cool" teased Draco, paddling up to her feet. His blonde hair was slicked back now, making his handsome features even more prominent. He had good cheekbones, a strong chin, brilliant blue-gray eyes…

            "You're sweating" he said, throwing himself on his back in the water, "Sure you don't want to come in?"

            "No thank you," Hermione said primly, dabbing her forehead with her sleeve. "I'm perfectly comfortable as I am."

            She absently plucked wildflowers as she waited for Draco to finish splashing around. Now and then, she would sneak looks at his strong body cutting through the water as he swam. She felt little shivers run through her. This evening was so perfect. The summer sun hung gently in the sky, there was soft wind rustling through Flinders Wood, the stream burbled cheerfully, and these masses and masses of beautiful wildflowers around her….

            "Knut for your thoughts?"

            She jumped. Draco was leaning back on his elbows next to her. The sunlight glinted off his shining wet torso and his wet hose clung to his legs. _Oh, my thoughts now would cost you more than a knut…_

            "Knut for yours" she countered.

            "Well, M'Lady," he said, "I think we should set these two doves free as soon as possible."

            "I agree" she said. "You do the honours"

            Draco opened beside her and deftly plucked a couple of feathers off one of the doves. It cooed angrily and flapped its wings.

            "Shall we let them go now?"

            "Oh yes. I never could stand to see birds in cages. The fair today was awful in that way."

            Draco smiled. Yet another thing he had learned about Hermione. "All right then. Since it means so much to you…" He handed her the cage.

            "Let's do it together" Hermione found herself saying. 

            "Why?" Draco looked surprised.

            "I don't know, it seems so…symbolic. You know, letting birds go free. And besides, we're friends now." _What am I doing? _ Hermione could hardly believe herself. _Again I am testing him, pushing the limits, what do I want, what am I doing?…_

            '_Friends' Draco thought _are you sure that's all you think we are, Miss Hermione Granger? You who let me hold your hand in Flinders Wood and buy you ribbons for your hair? You who bring me salve for my back and write me letters every day?__

            Wordlessly, he put his hand on hers she didn't resist. She lifted the cage up to him and together, they opened the catch. The doves took a moment to realize they were being set free. Then, they were off into the sky, disappearing beyond the outline of the wood. Hermione and Draco put the cage on the ground.

            He was still holding her hand. He felt her start to pull away from him but this time, he tightened his fingers and held her more firmly. She wasn't looking at him, he could see her ears had turned red. _Strange, I should feel nervous like the last few times, but I don't. How come I feel so confident tonight? Yes, this is more like the old Draco Malfoy._ Draco took a deep breath.

            "Hermione… I need to talk to you. Please don't say there's nothing going on, because you know that's not true."

            Hermione still couldn't bring herself to look at him. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought her chest would burst. A million different thoughts ran through her mind. It was as much as she could do to nod. His hand on hers felt warm and comforting.

            "I think you know what's happening to us. I don't know how or why, all I know that you've come to mean a lot to me now. Do you know what I mean?" his voice was steady and gentle, and Hermione felt her courage rise.

            "Yes." She said. "I never thought it possible before, but I feel the same about you."

            He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Hermione, look at me."

            She lifted her face to his. He could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes, but also excitement. _Now's my chance, _Draco told himself _do it do it do it do it. She won't resist. _

            He leaned towards her.

            "Wait."

            Hermione put her hands on his shoulders and stared seriously at him. Her brows creased in worry and she seemed to be going through a terrible inner struggle.

            "Hermione, are you all right?"

            _I have to know thought Hermione. __I am doing a terrible thing but if he can do this for me, it means he really cares, and that will make it all right. I have to know._

            "Draco, will you break off your engagement to Blaise Zabini?" she said in a rush.

            "What?!" Draco couldn't believe his ears. "Break off my engagement to Blaise?!"

            Hermione felt like she had been shot. What a fool she had been. This was the only thing holding her back, and she thought she could change it.

            "Never mind" she said, "Forget I asked" She turned away from him and tried to remove her hand from his.

            _What the hell were the fay folk playing at? They LIED to me! They didn't do one fucking thing about my engagement!_

            "No, wait" he said, holding her hand even more tightly against her struggles to break away. "You think I'm engaged to Blaise Zabini?"

            Hermione glared at him, "What are you playing at Draco? You know, and I know, and the whole of Hogwarts knows you are! And until you decide to break it off…well, then **_nothing's going on_**." She couldn't help it, tears were running down her face. She had never felt like this before, scared, out of control….there was nothing in the textbooks about situations like this…

            Draco thought fast. _Okay, so the frickin' fay played me out. Sod them. I'll deal with it myself, however nasty the consequences. Oh shit…even though  the consequences for breaking off a wizard engagement are… shit shit shit…._

            "**Of course I'll break it off!" he said loudly and suddenly.**

            Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. Why was Draco speaking so loudly?

            "Draco…"

            "**Of course I'll bloody break it off with her! You don't think I would play around like that do you?..."**

            "Draco…"

            "I'd written it off ages ago! As if I'd treat you like that!..."

            "DRACO!"

            "WHAT?"

            "You're hurting my hand!" Hermione said.

            "Oh…sorry" Draco realized he had been gripping her hand more and more tightly as he made his assertions. He let it go.

            "I said you're holding it too tightly, I didn't say to let go" Hermione said through her tears.

            Draco felt a wave of relief wash over him. So maybe he hadn't handled it brilliantly. But all wasn't lost yet. He wasn't very good at this whole courtship thing. His whole stomach felt in a mess. He was crazy about Hermione, yet he didn't know what she wanted, and he had to break it off with Blaise, whom he didn't like, but then there were the consequences for breaking off an official wizard engagement. DAMN! A million thoughts flashed through his mind…

            His Slytherin nature always made him look for the simplest and most advantageous ways out of sticky situations: like getting engaged to Blaise in the first place to rebuild the family honour. But it seemed there was no side-stepping out of this one. 

He couldn't understand it… Why didn't the fay just make it all go _away! _

What he had promised Hermione was possibly the hardest thing he had had to do in his privileged, money-oiled, pureblood life… CRAPPING BLOODY SOD THE FAY. At least, if it was going to be difficult to do, it was something worth doing. Because as he looked at Hermione, the strong, beautiful, clever witch next to him - he realized that it really was something worth doing. He had never felt that way about anyone or for that matter, anything in his life before.

            "Don't cry" he said at last to Hermione. "Er… it makes you less pretty?"

            "Oh you!" she said and dried her eyes on the hem of her skirt.

            "This isn't quite the romantic picnic I planned" he said lamely, pushing back a hair of hers that had come loose from her bun.

            "Oh you planned all this did you?" she said.

            "You don't think we came here to picnic by accident did you? Perfect bubbling brook, nice soft grass, icky sweet wildflowers everywhere giving me hay fever…"

            "I didn't know you had hay fever?" Hermione was smiling at last.

            "Well…I don't. But if I did, all these wildflowers sure would set me off."

            She threw a bunchful of them at him with her free hand.

            "What's so funny?" he said, watching her suppress giggles.

            "You've got a daisy stuck in your hair."

            "Great." he said, searching for it.

            "It kind of suits you."

            "I think it suits you better." He said, plucking it off his hair and placing it behind her ear. He smoothed down her hair with his hands, and the action calmed her. "I…I want you to know that I mean what I say. My promises are as good as gold. When we get back, the first thing I'm going to do is to break off my engagement."

            She nodded. "I believe you. But I still feel bad for Blaise. I feel like this is all my fault somehow."

            "Blaise doesn't love me," Draco shook his head, "She was infatuated with the idea of me, but we didn't get along. We even talked about breaking it off a few times, but there were so many things holding us back. She's terrified of her father for one thing, and…and…well, it's not easy to break off a pureblood wizard engagement."

            "What do you mean?"

            "It doesn't matter. It's too complicated to explain, but just rest assured that I'll do it." He grinned. "The whole thing was ruining my life, you know. I hated the thought of being married to someone I didn't love. I know I became bitter and cruel to Blaise about it, but I couldn't stop myself. And I promise you, everything will be all right. Don't feel bad about it – you probably did Blaise a big favour. Her getting married to me would have ruined both our lives."

            "I knew you two weren't really getting along, but I still feel bad about it." Hermione admitted, "If I didn't muck up that Potions NEWT, we wouldn't be stuck here in the past, and all this wouldn't have happened, and we wouldn't have…wouldn't have…"

            "Wouldn't have what…hmm?" Draco asked innocently.

            "…Wouldn't have gotten to know each other better."

            "And I _know you like what you've gotten to know about Draco Malfoy." he teased, taking both her hands in his. "What's not to like? Handsome, witty, suave…"_

            "Egotistical, pompous, infuriating…"

            "My senses have gone for love of you…" Draco murmured, suddenly drawing her close to him. _Nothing was going to get in his way this time_.

"You go with the sun and I forget to burn…" Hermione whispered. She felt like she had when she had drunk too much elderberry wine at the Weasley twins' twentieth birthday party. Her head began to swim and her body began to tingle all over. She was deliciously aware of Draco's arms holding her tightly, the pale skin of Draco's chest against her own, Draco's clear gray eyes, Draco's slightly sweaty smell…Draco.

"I turn my face with love to you…" he said, and tilted her face up to his gently.

"My fair, white…"


	16. Chapter 16: Now We Both Know Why

**Chapter 16: Now We Both Know Why**

Time was beginning to lose all meaning for them in this world. It seemed that the slow pace of medieval life attuned itself to their very heartbeats. They lived only for the comforting daze of fresh mornings and sweet evenings, and measured time by the size of the blooms on the rose-bushes.

            Initially, Hermione had been very shy with Draco. She had never had a boyfriend before and didn't really know what to do sometimes. On his part, Draco had also been shy with Hermione. Although they had attended the same school for the last seven years, they really didn't know each other that well at all, having been on opposite sides of the blood dispute for years. Both didn't quite know what the other expected of them, the only thing they did know, was that they were desperate to spend almost every spare moment in each other's company.

            Draco was surprised at the change that had come over him. He was used to being, as Hermione had so glibly put it: _egotistical, pompous and infuriating but here, in this time and with Hermione, he felt at peace. He supposed most of his previous unhappiness arose from the responsibility of living up to the name of being a Death Eater's Son and heir to one of the largest Pureblood fortunes around. _

Beacause of that, he had always felt desperate to prove himself at Hogwarts which, in retrospect, had made him an egotistical little twit. The very thought of the _Weasley__ Is Our King song made him cringe. _Lucius___ would be disgusted with me now, he thought as he presented Hermione with an enormous rose he had stolen from the manor gardens, _probably blame it on Narcissa's side of the family_._

            Hermione put it in her hair where it continued to give off a wonderful scent.

            "How did you know roses are my favourite flower?" she asked.

            "Krum used to send them to you each Valentine's," Draco said. "I also saw you by the rose-bushes in Hogwarts- it was your other favourite place to do your homework besides the library."

            "So I was right, you were watching me all the time in Hogwarts!"

            "Well, now we both know why," he said, swinging her round to face him. Hermione smiled. This was wonderful. Everything was perfect and wonderful.

He was deliciously aware of Hermione pressing herself against him.  He rested his chin on her mass of auburn curls, shut his eyes, and breathed in the scent of the rose in her hair.

"After the our fight in Flinders Wood, I dreamt I gave you roses as an apology and you looked so happy," he said quietly. "But the dream faded when you reached for them."

He felt Hermione give a little start in his arms. "Oh! It really _was_ you!"

"What?" he said, puzzled.

"The roses on my bed!"

"On your bed?"

Hermione's eyes were bright. "When I woke up the next day, my bed was covered with roses! I thought it might be you, you know, there's no way anyone else could have gotten into my room and left them…except by magic."

Draco was beginning to understand. "Magic? You mean…wandless magic?"

"Yes…of course. Like when Harry blew up his aunt in third year because he was so angry with her…or like when Ron turned himself literally green with jealousy when I went on a date with Neville Longbottom in sixth year."

"You went on a date with Neville Longbottom?"

Hermione reddened. "It was a favour – Trevor, his toad, had just died and he was so upset that I told him I'd take him out on Valentine's Day and buy him an ice cream."

Draco was highly amused. "How did it go?"

"Not too well…his ice-cream had a strawberry charm on it and he's allergic so he started growing strawberries out of his ears. We had to go back to the hospital wing early."

"Aside from that being the funniest thing I've ever heard...Let me say that it's a relief to know we are still magic."

Hermione nodded, "But we can only work magic while we are extremely emotional, and then it's rather unpredictable."

"Still, it's better than nothing," Draco said, pulling her close again.

"Draco Malfoy" Hermione said quietly.

"What?"

She shook her head and pulled back from his embrace. "Nothing, I was just reminding myself that it's _Draco__ Malfoy holding me. Whatever will they say when we get back to the future?"_

Draco ran his fingers through her hair. "Potter and Weasley will probably have ten fits. My father might die of shock imagining a muggle-born being Lady of Malfoy Manor- directing Malfoy house-elves, riding Malfoy horses…"

"…eating off Malfoy silver…"

"…hosting Malfoy parties…"

"Are you asking me to be Lady of the Manor? D'you know what that means" said Hermione, cheekily.

"It means whatever you want it to mean" Draco kissed the top of her head.

"Wouldn't you like to know!"

"Yes I would" he said innocently.

"Well, you'll have to work to find out" she said, pushing a blonde lock of hair back behind his ear.

"As you wish" he said, lowering his lips to hers. "M'Lady"

She could stand here kissing him forever, she thought. Draco certainly knew how to kiss. He kissed not only with his mouth, but with his whole body. He wrapped her into himself and made her feel faint with desire.

"How was that?" he said, a pleased, Slytherin-like look on his face. Hermione was breathing heavily.

"It'll do" she managed to gasp.

"I've been practicing quite a lot lately" he said, smugly.

She touched his face gently. "I know."

The manor appeared around a bend before them.

"When does your father return?" asked Draco in concern.

"In another two weeks" she said gloomily. "I won't be able to sneak out so much then. But don't worry, it's only another seven weeks to Samhain."

"The herbs are nearly ready" Draco said, waving in the direction of the herb garden. "I obsess over them every day. They're doing fine."

"Don't worry, everything will be all right. In less than two months, we'll be home again." Hermione said confidently.

Draco looked sheepish, "I'm actually going to miss this place" he said. "The work's hard, but simple enough so it really gives me lots of time to think. I feel so peaceful here… And there's you, of course."

"I'll be there when we get back you know," Hermione said.

"Yes, but I kind of like you in these clothes and with this hair. I can hardly remember what you used to look like back in Hogwarts. For that matter, I can hardly remember what we all used to wear."

Hermione laughed, "It's just the Thyme Eliminus side-effects. You'll remember once we return."

"Then again, I hope that when we return, we won't forget all _this_. I really don't want to forget these few months. Life in the other world seems crazy compared to this, and when we go back, I might get all tense and nasty again."

"Oh Draco, it'll be all right. I don't think people actually _change. I think Nice Draco was always somewhere inside you, it just needed this…jolt…to bring it out. And sometimes, to be honest, I found Bad Draco exciting."_

"Did you, Miss Granger? What would your little Gryffindor pals have to say about that. I can still be as bad as you want, after all, I _am Draco Malfoy…" he growled._

She squealed as he gently bit down on her neck.

He could feel her shiver and felt excited that he could give her so much pleasure. _Maybe one day_…he ran his hands roughly down her back and held her tiny waist. She sighed and pressed herself against him_. Yes certainly_, he thought, as he felt himself start to respond to her…

Hermione drew back and gave him a final peck on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow…" she said and began to walk away, turning round to smile at him.

Draco gathered his scattered wits. "Hey, Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to ask your priest about the whole mysterious childhood thing. You've put it off long enough, and I'm dead curious."

She nodded, "I was waiting for the right moment. I'll do it tomorrow and let you know."

"Good night, Hermione"

"Good night"

*********************************************** 

            The next morning, Hermione was determined to find out about the mystery of her childhood. She had delayed too long, being too preoccupied with spending time with Draco. But now, even Draco grew impatient at finding out more. Somehow, they felt it was connected with them being brought back to the past together.

            "Father Lorenzo?"

            "Yes, my child?"

            Hermione sat up straighter. "When were you appointed Chapelmaster here at Granger Mansion?"

            Father Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, "When you were born, child. I baptized you a month after you came into this world."

            "Who was Chapelmaster before you?"

            "Well now, let's see…that would have been Father Gresham. Why all these questions, mistress Hermione? We should turn our attention back to the gospel of St John."

            "Please, father, I just want to get to know you better."

            The old man looked surprised. "You have strange notions," he said, "I am only an old Italian priest, what could you want to know?"

            "Why did you come here from Italy?"

            He smiled, "I belong to a wandering order, not a monastic one. It is our duty to go around the world spreading the good news and doing charity. I traveled to France in 1460 from Italy when I was a young man. I set sail for England in 1465…." The old priest was enjoying himself. He had a faraway look in his eyes. "The things I saw during my travels! I wandered around England for three years before coming to Suffolk and the town of Mildenstowe. Your father offered me a night's stay, and as Father Gresham was old and retiring soon, he offered me the position of Chapelmaster. I didn't want to take it, I belong to a wandering order, but Lord Granger was most kind and I saw I had important work here to do."

            "What important work?"

            Father Lorenzo sighed and gave her a fatherly look.

            "Lord Granger's wife, Lady Katherine Granger, had just had their first child- a girl. The child was very sickly…it was you, mistress. Some say it was a miracle you lived…And there were also some other…problems. Lord Granger trusted me to give Lady Granger comfort, and the rest of the manor and Mildenstowe as well. Your…condition…was delicate. But-" the priest suddenly became businesslike, "-all was well in the end. I tutored you when you were younger in Latin, Penmanship and Scripture, and I am pleased to observe that you have emerged a source of pride and joy to your parents."

            "Father, you mentioned some other problems…what were they?"

            The old priest gave her a searching look, "Lord Granger has forbidden anyone from mentioning the past. I was against it, I told him that you should be told one day, but my lord wished differently. As I am his servant, I will honour his wishes."

            "But Father…"

            "I suggest, dear child, that you ask your parents yourself. Your eighteenth birthday approaches and it is the custom then for the daughter of the house to assume partial rights of duty in the running of the household in which she lives. I always said you should have a right to know, after all, God knows the secrets of our hearts."

            "But Father, please…"

            The old priest picked up his book and flipped the pages. "And that is a good passage to learn…_1 John 3: 19-20** in hoc cognoscimus quoniam ex veritate sumus et in conspectu eius suadeamus corda nostra. Quoniam si reprehenderit nos cor maior est Deus corde nostro et novit omnia. **_Please turn to that passage."

            Itching with frustration, Hermione did as the old priest said. She clearly would have nothing new to tell Draco till her parents returned.****

************************************

            It was very late and even the stubborn summer sun had begun to wane.

            "My Lord, how splendid to have you back early" Audley bowed low as Lord and Lady Granger stepped out of their carriage.

            "Greetings, Audley" said Lady Granger pleasantly as her husband nodded to the steward. 

            "How are my affairs?" Lord Granger asked immediately.

            "No need for worry there," said Fanhope, also bowing. "Everything is running as smooth as clockwork, although I cannot say how glad we are to have you back a week before expectation."

            "Excellent. Oh and will you see to it that the horses are saddled up? Call the under-servants to do it- it appears that Hibbings and the other boys have left for the evening."

            "Yes, my Lord" Fanhope said, and went to call the under-servants from the quarters where they slept.

            "Gareth, I tire. I wish to retire soon." Said Lady Granger to her husband.

            "I thought you said you wanted to tell Hermione the good news as soon as you set foot in our compound?" Lord Granger affectionately patted his wife's back.

            Lady Katherine Granger smiled and yawned. "Oh yes, I mean- I intend to retire after doing just that! I have been saving up this happy news to tell her in person."

            "We have good news for the manor" said Lord Granger turning to Audley, who overheard the Granger's exchange with curiousity.

            "Yes, my lord?"

            "Lady Granger is with child again."

            "Praise be to God, congratulations m'lord. Congratulations m'lady" Audley beamed at his master and mistress.

            "Thank you, Audley. We would have sent word, but the mail is so unreliable. Of course, this was partly the reason for our early return," said Lady Granger.

            "Of course, m'lady. You will receive the best care at home. I will see to it that all things are ready for the happy arrival."

            "You are a great help, Audley," said Lord Granger, as the three turned towards the gate of the inner compound. Fanhope had returned with a group of servants to saddle the horses. Lord Granger nodded to him and he nodded back.

            "We will announce it at the manor tomorrow, after chapel" said Lord Granger. "Of course, you may tell Fanhope first if you wish." Audley nodded. The steward and bailiff were great friends.

            "Hermione will be thrilled, I know she will be" said Lady Granger as she walked up the stairs to the manor entrance. "Be it brother or sister, she will love the child."

            Lord Granger put his arm around his wife. "I am sure she will. She is turning out a fine girl - Audley has sent me letters informing me of her great help in running the manor during our absence and Father Lorenzo has also sent good reports."

            "And she will be pleased to hear that Baron Burnel of Lancashire has expressed keen interest in asking for her hand. Of all the suitors we have visited, his estates are the largest- quite five times the size of Lord Camvile's. More than that, he appears smitten with her." Lady Granger was very excited at telling all this news to her daughter. "Oh, and Senor Vittorio has sent word that the gowns will be sent up from London next week- there is so much to tell our daughter!"

            Lord Granger laughed, his wife had always had an excellent relationship with their daughter. She had been only fourteen when Hermione had been born, and the two were more like sisters than mother and daughter. If only this time Hermione would see sense and agree to the match with Baron Burnel of Lancashire…The visit had been most fruitful, from Lord Granger's point of view. 

Baron Burnel had invited them to learn more of their estates and their daughter. A portrait of Hermione had been produced and Baron Burnel had pronounced it even more beautiful than the reports he had heard from various sources of her beauty. He fully intended to visit them next month- the only thing he couldn't understand was why Lord Granger did not promise him his daughter's hand.

            "You let her _choose_?" Burnel was incredulous, "Never have I heard of such a thing."

            "She is a very special girl, Baron," said Lady Granger, "And she is our only daughter. Call us foolish if you will, but we only want her happiness."

            "I suppose that's fair," said Burnel. He puffed out his chest, "And anyway, I am sure that I can put on a good showing for Lady Hermione next month. Already I can think of some splendid jewels to offer your lovely daughter."

            Lord Granger's reminiscences were interrupted by his wife's voice. "Here we are" Lady Granger paused outside Hermione's door. "Do you want to come in for 'lady talk' as it were?"

            Lord Granger shook his head. "You go ahead, sweeting. I am eager to get back to my accounts before I sleep. I just want a quick look at the books."

            Lady Granger nodded and waited for her husband to turn and go.

            "I will join you shortly," she said.

            At the sound of Lord Granger's retreating footsteps, Lady Granger knocked on Hermione's door. She would probably be asleep and sure enough, there was no answer.

            Smiling, Lady Granger pushed open the door and let herself in. She had often done this when Hermione was a child. The girl didn't know her mother used to frequently walk into her bedroom at night just to check that she was all right. After all, Lady Granger never forgot how she had nearly lost Hermione at birth.

            She pulled back the curtains on the bed, expecting to see the sleeping form of her daughter under the bed clothes.

            She gasped.

            The bed was empty.


	17. Chapter 17: She Is A Playful Child

**Chapter 17: She Is A Playful Child**

"Turn away," insisted Hermione.

            "But I'll see you eventually anyway."

            "I don't care. Just turn away."

            Draco smirked and swam away from Hermione. He paused at the far edge of the stream and stared at the fields beyond.

            Nervously, Hermione undid the buttons and ties on the back of her dress and shrugged off the blue peasant's dress.

            "Don't look!" she yelled when she saw him peeking. Draco laughed and turned round again.

            "Ok, but I'm getting impatient. I'll count to ten...one, two…"

            Hermione gathered her corseted underdress around her and dipped her toe into the stream. It was cold! A running stream clearly didn't manage to retain heat very well.

            "three..four…"

            She stepped into the stream up to her knees, getting used to the cold.

            "five….ten!" Draco pushed off from the opposite side of the bank and dove towards Hermione. She shrieked as she felt him pull her into the water. The water was just as cold as she knew it would be.

            "It's so COLD!"

            "Swim a bit, you'll get used to it" Draco laughed as he pulled her by the waist into the centre where it was the deepest. It rose nearly up to her ribs. Hermione threw herself into the water and swam a few strokes. He was right, she did feel warmer already. And really, it was fantastic to get so cold on a hot summer's day! To think she had waited a whole month before getting enough courage to join Draco at swimming.

            "This feels _super_!" she said, floating on her back and getting as wet as she possibly could.

            "I told you so," said Draco, watching her appreciatively. _God, she looks so tempting. Her underdress was pulled tightly around her top making her breasts very attractive._

            "Stop staring at me!" Hermione sputtered, splashing upright again. She lowered herself in the water slightly so that only her head was above the water.

            "The water's too clear to hide, you know" said Draco, moving towards her and putting his arms around her waist.

            Trapped in corsets all day with unsatisfactory tin-tub baths in front of the fire, this was the most sensual experience she had had in all her time here. The water tingled coolly against her skin, reaching every warm part of her, making her feel so alive. Hermione felt all dizzy and dangerous. She didn't know what Draco wanted to do with her in that clear, cool water… but she knew she probably would like it.

            Draco could feel her relaxing in his embrace. They let the stream swirl around them softly, just enjoying the calming sound of running water. Through the clear water, he could see her hands reach around his shoulders and pull him to her…

            "_You're amazing." he said huskily, as they finally broke their kiss. Hermione was drunk with excitement. To think what she was doing could have such an effect on Draco… _No, they certainly never taught me this in Hogwarts_, she thought mischievously. She smiled and lifted his hands from around her waist to her chest._

            Draco was shocked –What was it she wanted of him? They had grown very close over the last month, losing their inhibitions with each other and kissing more and more passionately, but she had never been this encouraging before. He gently stroked her neck and shoulders, moving down to below her collar bone and the swell of her breasts.

            Draco was so excited he was practically trembling_. Gently, he moved his lips down to where his hands had been stroking. She made a soft sound and arched her back out of the water. He used his lips and teeth to gently suck and bite a trail from her neck to the swell of her breasts. He pressed his hips against her and heard her make a muffled sound of surprise._

            "Do you know what you do to me, Hermione?" he growled, as he pulled her to him.

            Her exposed shoulders gleamed with drops of water, wet from the stream. Draco placed a hand behind her head and bent her forward to him. They were so close he could feel her breath on his lips. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and slung her legs over his hips. She pressed herself against his hard-on.

            _Sweet __Merlin, I feel like I'm going to burst, Draco thought. He pulled them both back down into the water so only their heads were above it. Her hair hung in wet straggles about her face and he could see her cheeks were flushed. He was acutely aware of her breasts pushed up against his chest- at that moment, the only thing he wanted to do was to rip off that corset she was wearing._

            _Engagememt__ be damned. Bloodlines be damned. Still kissing her, he began to undo the stays at the back of her dress. _

Hermione gasped as she felt the tight bind of the corset loosen around her and fall to her waist. Lifting her slightly, so she was half out of the water, Draco stared in delight at the sight before him. She was even lovelier in the flesh than in the nights of his tortured, unfulfilled fantasies back at Hogwarts.

Draco kissed the swell of each perfect breast tenderly. She groaned as she felt him take a hardened nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue against it gently and bit down very gently.

Draco felt his hard-on straining against his hose, and he was pleasantly surprised to feel Granger's hand's stroking him tentatively. He turned his attentions to her other nipple and teased it with his tongue.

Nothing could describe how Draco was feeling at the moment. 

Sure, there had been girls back at Hogwarts. Pansy- giggling and scratching - a few times back in the Sixth. Sally-Anne Perks - whiny and submissive - in the Fifth. Even a few juniors now and then. But nothing like this.

He pulled her at her underdress, trying to slip it down her hips. But suddenly, he felt her hands stop him. She pulled back.

"No…Draco" she whispered. "I…I'm not ready."

What Draco wanted to do at that moment was to curse loudly. Instead, what came out was a strangled, "…why?..."

Hermione suddenly looked shy, quite different from the little seductress she had been a moment ago. "I…I've n-never…before."

"Seriously?" Draco was surprised. After going out with Viktor Krum for two years, one would have expected more of Granger.

She blushed. "It's true. I would like to, but I'm…not sure…sorry."

Draco felt his hard-on throb even more painfully. Damn. Think of cold water. Man, they were already _in_ a stream full of cold water…

"That's all right" he said stiffly, helping her fasten her stays.

"I'm really sorry" she said, in a small voice.

"Hey, I said it's all right." he said, in a more normal voice. Oddly, with this new revelation he felt even more protective over her than before.

Silently, they made their way to the bank and sat on the grass. There was a light wind and the sun was beginning to set. Hermione drew closer to Draco and he put an arm around her. Part of the reason why she hadn't let herself go all the way was a tiny part of her mind wondering if Draco really took her seriously, or was she going to be just another notch on his belt?

"Draco," she murmured, "Have you ever?"

Draco knew what she was asking- she was afraid that she would be just another conquest for him. And no wonder- it was her first time, and with her sworn enemy for seven years, no less. He considered whether to lie to her- shit, his history didn't help his position much. But then again, what was the point anyway? Already, he was keeping the incident with the fay from her, he shouldn't keep anything else. "Yes"

He felt her tense.

"With Blaise?"

"No."

She relaxed slightly.

"Who?"

Draco felt embarrassed. He fudged his answer a little, "Some Sytherin girls…a few juniors…that's all."

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione turned round in shock, "You didn't!"

"Oh come on, it's not like Scarhead and the Weasley Girl don't have a reputation either. Or how about that tart in Gryffindor…watshername…Lavender."

"Lav isn't a tart." Hermione said loyally. "She's just…romantic."

"Yeah well, so am I."

"No…you _are a tart." she scolded. Hermione wasn't really angry with Draco. She had heard the rumours ages ago- they had started when Draco turned sixteen, and the girls in Hogwarts began to giggle whenever they passed him._

"You're different, you know, Hermione." Draco said. "I don't know how to make you believe me, if that's why you're worried."

She didn't say anything. So he had guessed that was what she had been so worried about?

She felt him stroking her bare arms as he nuzzled her neck.

"Just give me some time" she said.

"How about five centuries of it?"

Hermione buried her head in his shoulder. Draco pulled her down onto the soft grass and together, they watched the stars begin to appear. Their breathing settled into unison, and Hermione began to float away on that cloud of timelessness. She almost believed him, she really wanted to.

********************************* 

            They slipped through the shadows along the stream and toward the outer compound. Hermione's underclothes were still wet from her swim and she was eager to get back and change into her warm nightgown. She would lay her dress out in front of her fireplace, and by the next morning, it would be dry.

            She had stayed much later with Draco than she intended. They had nearly fallen asleep by the stream and it had grown dark before they knew what was happening. They rounded the final curve of the stream.

            "Ssshh" Draco hissed at her side. The two of them stood stock still.

            Something was wrong.

            There were lights heading towards them from the manor compound.

            "What's…"

"I don't know, but you'd better go…" Draco gave her hand a quick squeeze and let it go.

            She nodded, feeling alarmed.

            "Hermione?" she heard a man shout. Draco was already hurrying away. A beam of light fell on her and she shielded her eyes.

            "Hermione!" the man's voice was shocked and angry. "Who was that and what are you doing in those clothes?"

            Hermione felt light-headed with guilt and fear.

            "F-father…I can explain."

            Other lights came onto the scene and all around her, men emerged with lamps. Hermione was acutely aware that her clothes were dripping wet and she didn't know if it was because of that or of fear that she began to shiver.

            "M'Lord…Have you found her?" came a familiar voice. It was Audley. Fanhope arrived on the scene with about six under-servants. The place was completely lit by the glow of lamps now and Hermione was in the centre of it all.

            "I can explain" she said, her heart pounding.

            Lord Granger looked so angry she thought he would have a heart attack. He turned to one of the under servants and whispered something. The man nodded and together with another man, they hurried down the stream in the direction where Draco had gone. Hermione knew that her father had glimpsed Draco and was sending men to look for him.

            "Please…father…" she tried again.

            "HOW DARE YOU" Lord Granger shouted and she flinched. "Look at your clothes, your hair, what the deuce were you doing? And why are you so _wet?" he said, noticing wet stains appearing on her outer dress. He marched forward and grabbed her arm roughly, she cried out in pain._

            "Please, m'lord" said Fanhope.

            "Silence!" Lord Granger snapped at his bailiff. Fanhope and Audley stepped back, exchanging nervous glances.

            Lord Granger seemed to have lost his senses. He began to shake Hermione's arm violently, "WHAT THE DEUCE HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? WHAT THE DEUCE  HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? TALK! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR TONGUE? TALK!"

            "I…was…s-swimming…in the stream" Hermione gasped. Lord Granger was still shaking her roughly.

            "WHO WAS WITH YOU? WHY IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A SERVANT?"

            "No…one… was… with me…"

            Lord Granger gave Hermione a furious glare and flung her away from him.

            "There was a lad with you…I saw him" he said, dangerously calmly. "You are lying to me. You shall return to the manor where your mother is half-sick with worry over your disappearance and we will continue this conversation there. And if you lie to me anymore, you will regret it."

            Hermione's greatest fear then was not for herself but for Draco. What if the two under-servants found him? There was a rustle in the bushes and the two servants re-appeared. To her dismay, she saw that Draco was caught firmly between them. She felt her stomach bottom out.

            "We found him, m'lord. He was hiding nearby watching everything."

            The look on Lord Granger's face was hard to put into words. Murderous would have been an understatement. He clenched his fists.

            "M'Lord…" Audley said nervously, "'Tis best we continue in the manor. Lady Hermione is wet and may catch cold."

            Without a word, Lord Granger turned and stormed off into the manor. Hermione felt Fanhope gently take her arm and guide her along. She didn't even dare to look behind her to where Draco was being marched in by the two under-servants. This was not her real father. This was not her real life. So why did she feel so _terrified_ of what might happen to them? In spite of herself, she felt tears spring to her eyes.

            "Don't cry, m'lady" she heard Fanhope whisper in her ear. "This mess will be sorted out."

            She felt grateful for the kind words and followed her father into the main hall of the manor.

            "Gareth!" Lady Granger called out to her husband as soon as she saw him approaching. Mary, Hermione's nurse, was with her. "Have you found…" Her voice trailed off at the sight of the wet Hermione. Her eyes opened wider when she saw the blonde stablehand being led in by two servants. "Oh no. Oh no, Hermione!" Her mother sat down heavily in a chair as Mary soothed her.

            "LEAVE US" Lord Granger shouted to the group of servants who had followed them in. The servants bowed and took off. Audley, Fanhope and Mary stood awkwardly with the family. "ALL OF YOU." Lord Granger rubbed his eyes and walked towards his wife. Audley, Fanhope and Mary left hurriedly.

            There was a most uncomfortable silence in the room after they had gone. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on a knot of wood on the table. She couldn't see what Draco was doing by her side.

            "Hermione, I am going to give you one chance to explain yourself," Lord Granger said quietly. "And if I find out you have been lying during this one chance, your punishment will be ten times worse than what I already have planned for you."

            "Hermione, what have you done? Tell us the truth" her mother pleaded.

            _This is not my real father. This is not my real mother. This is not my life. And besides, I have done nothing wrong. Hermione repeated the phrases like a mantra inside her head._

            "TALK!" she jumped.

            "I…I…" she felt Draco shift slightly next to her. "He is my friend. We went swimming in the stream because it was so hot. That's all. I swear."

            Her mother looked slightly mollified but her father tensed.

            "That's all? _That's all_?"

            "Gareth, you know she is a playful child…"

            "_Child?" her father spluttered. "Will you look at your _child_, woman? She has a full figure, she is ripe for the plucking- this is no __child!" He glared at Hermione. "One last time…__what happened?What were you doing with this boy?"_

            Hermione felt herself began to blush. She remembered the feel of Draco's lips on her skin. _Don't blush. Don't blush_. She commanded herself, but the more she tried to fight it, the hotter she felt her cheeks become.

            "YOU SEE?" her father rounded on her mother, "You see her cheeks flame?"

            Her mother turned white. "Oh Hermione, please tell us you didn't…"

            "No! I didn't!"

            "You were swimming in your underclothes with this boy?"

            "Yes…"

            "And you say nothing happened?"

            "YES!"

            "Please m'lord…" Draco spoke up, "I swear this lady's honour is intact."

            "Your word counts for less than slop with me" Lord Granger said angrily. "And I did not give you permission to speak, servant." Hermione flinched at Lord Granger's insult.

            "Gareth…"

            "What?"

            Lady Granger signaled to her husband to lower his head and she whispered something into his ear. Her father turned pale and muttered something back. Hermione took this chance to sneak a glance at Draco. He was not looking at her. His eyes were stormy and his jaw was clenched.

            Draco felt worse than he had about the flogging. He couldn't even speak up for himself, or for someone he cared about. No, he was powerless. And he knew quite well that if Lord Granger wanted to, he could order his execution.

            Lord Granger was shaking his head. Lady Granger was pleading with him now but he shook his head. Finally, she grasped his hand in her own but he flung it off. Her mother looked defeated.

            Lord Granger turned to the unhappy pair before him.

            "You will leave my estate immediately," he said to Draco. "If I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

            Hermione caught her breath.

            Draco looked furious. Lord Granger, who had been staring at him, involuntarily dropped his eyes. The blonde man looked like he was going to say something, but stopped himself.

            "Are you mute as well as foolish!?"

            "May I go now?" Draco said without emotion.

            "Never let me see your face again. Never try to come near my daughter or my family."

            Draco turned and walked towards the door. He showed no hurry or fear. He simply walked off.

            "Wait!" he heard Hermione call out. "Please, father…"

            He heard the sound of a slap ring out across hall. If there was anything he had learnt from Lucius, it was to pick one's battles wisely.

            "Draco!"

            He heard another slap ring out.

            "Gareth!" he heard Lady Katherine shout.

            Hermione would be all right on her own for now. She was the daughter of the family, they would not be too hard on her. If only she had the sense to play along with whatever they wanted…As for him, he knew the best thing to do was to escape and lie low for a while. In another ten minutes, he was in the outer compound and walking mechanically out of the iron gates.

            Pausing to collect his thoughts, Draco stood still for a moment. Then he turned in the direction of the town.


	18. Chapter 18: Suit No 312 of 2005

**I know that technically, seventh year would have been in the mid-90s. But I like writing about it in the future because it leaves open the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, D/Hr really _can _happen. *fingers crossed***

**Chapter 18: Suit No. 312 of 2005**

"Hurry up, Ron! We've spent half of my lunch break in here already." said Harry impatiently.

            "The green or the blue?" said Ron, fingering two different coloured brooches.

            "Green, it goes with her eyes!"

            "But you said blue was better just now?"

            "Ok, blue then."

            "But you said green goes with her eyes."

            Harry sighed. "Look, Ron. I'm sure she'll like whatever colour we choose for her."

            "Yes, but…"

            "We'll take this!" said Harry, handing the green jeweled brooch to the witch at the counter of Jorinda's Jewels.

            "That's a good choice", she approved, fishing out a tiny silver box and putting the brooch in. "That'll be ten galleons and eight sickles."

            Harry and Ron each took out some money and handed it to her. Ron took the silver box and slipped it into his pocket.

            "D'you really think she'll like it?"

            "Sure" said Harry, enthusiastically. "It's bound to cheer her up."

            "I wish her parents would stop going on at her about Malfoy as if it's her fault he disappeared." Ron said unhappily.

            Harry walked towards a sandwich shop and his stomach gave a hungry rumble. When he had agreed to meet Ron to choose a cheering-up gift for Blaise, he didn't figure on giving up his whole lunch break to do it.

            "Pickles for you?" asked Harry, placing their order.

            "The last time we met up she said her father was applying to the Wizard Council to have Draco declared dead. Then at least his fortune can be distributed and the Zabini's will get half of everything."

            "Can't Lucius do anything about that?" Harry couldn't believe that he was actually rooting for Lucius Malfoy- bloodthirsty ex-death-eater and enormous snob.

            "In Azkaban, you have no rights in the wizarding world. You're as good as dead."

            "What about Malfoy's mother?"

            "Oh yes, she could take control of the fortune… if she hadn't been diagnosed clinically insane by St Mungo's. Draco stood in as full proxy for her. With him gone, the fortune is at sea."

            "S'far as I know, it takes seven years before a missing person is declared legally dead."

            "Yeah, but apparently, if you can furnish proof that the person will never return, you can speed up that process."

            "What proof does Zabini have anyway?" Harry and Ron took their trays to a table.

            Ron took a huge bite of his ham and cheese sandwich.

            "deweduz" he said.

            "What?" Harry said. Ron still had that bad habit of talking with his mouth full.

            Ron swallowed and repeated, "The fay dust."

            Harry looked surprised. "Oh! You mean the fay dust Dumbledore told us they found in Hermione's Thyme Eliminus potion? What's that got to do with it?"

            "Well, Blaise said she did a bit of investigation and she found out that there's _no magical reversal_ for a potion with an unstable ingredient like fay dust…"

            "Yes, but _they can brew a Reverse Thyme Eliminus and return, yes?"_

            "Let me finish…apparently, under wizard law, if a person disappears under the influence of a potion that has _no magical reversal_ you can apply to have him declared dead. It's a technical loophole"

            Harry was scandalized, "Even if _they_ can brew a Reverse Thyme Eliminus in the past that brings them back to the future?"

            Ron nodded, taking another huge bite of his sandwich. "Bsmpheede…"

            "Ron, swallow first" said Harry.

            Ron did. "Blaise said the suit is being heard by the Wizengamot next week. She really doesn't want her father to succeed."

            "Why not?"

            "Well, first of all she thinks it's rotten unfair to Draco to lose half of everything. Next, her father might force her to take the name "Malfoy" which she really doesn't want…"

            "She told you all this in her letters?" Harry was shocked. "She didn't mention half so much to me."

            Ron blushed crimson. "Well…not exactly, she didn't mention it in her letters…"

            "Then how?..." a look of understanding spread on Harry's face. "Of course! You two've been meeting up, haven't you?"

            "Not a lot. Just er…a couple of times."

            Harry was getting it now. He slapped his forehead. "No wonder! The musical box for her birthday… and that's why you wanted me to filch ministry records to see when her birthday was! And the bloody brooch…"

            "That's from _us._"

            "Only because you haven't the guts to give her another present on your own!" Harry thumped Ron on the back. "Wait'll Malfoy hears how you've been making the moves on his girl!"

            Ron looked fearfully around him. "Will you keep your voice _down!" he hissed. "This is supposed to be a secret okay? And besides…I d-d-don't know if she likes me that much."_

            Harry was still grinning widely. "The way you two danced at my birthday party last month…I would think so!"

            Ron looked happy, "You think so?"

            "Yeah…go for it man!"

            Ron suddenly looked sad again. "Naaah…it's not gonna work. Draco isn't really dead. And even if he _is_ declared dead, Blaise will take the name "Malfoy" and return to her pureblood life… there is no chance in hell that Roberto Zabini is going to let me within ten miles of his daughter."

            Harry realized what Ron was saying was right.

            "Can't Blaise stand up to her parents?"

            Ron looked even glummer. "It's hard to stand up to your parents when it's all you've known all your life. She doesn't want to disappoint them and all that. And besides, even if she did break away from them, where would she go? She's got no one else."

            "What about you?" Harry asked seriously.

            "I dunno. Never felt this way about anyone before. Well, Hermione a bit back in the sixth, but not really like this…We were in school for merlin's sake. I mean, _me take care of __Blaise_ Zabini_? Or for that matter, any other living thing? I've had Scabbers…but look what happened to him! And Pig's not exactly something to boast about either," Ron looked worried, "I dunno, Harry."_

            "Aw, c'mon Ron. Cheer up. Look, let's go to the pub and have a couple of pints. We'll figure something out."

            "But your lunch break's nearly over."

            Harry grinned. "Doge is in charge this week. The man still hasn't learned to use a muggle clock. Says he doesn't believe in them."

            Ron nodded and followed his best friend out of the sandwich shop.

*********************************** 

            It was nearly 5pm. Harry packed up and locked his briefcase for the day. Before he got into the lift, he turned down the corridor towards another section of the department. He paused before a door that said "Wizengamot and Wizengamot Administration Services, Council of Magical Law" He turned the handle and went in.

            "Hi, Emmeline?" 

The tall witch in green robes turned around at the sound of her name. She smiled. "Hello Harry, still here? What can I do for you today?"

"Er…I was just wondering if I could have a look at some of the files the Wizengamot is hearing next week. I've got a friend involved."

            "Sure Harry," Emmeline said, taking a big key out of her robe pocket and signaling for him to follow him over to a magical filing cupboard. "Which case is it? Ha ha, I hope it's not Mundungus Fletcher and the illegal sale of poppy seed potions?"

            "No, it's a Zabini file."

            "Oh…okay. Z….let's have a look." She tapped the drawer labeled "Z" with her wand and muttered a spell. The folder flew up into her hands. "Here you are, Suit Number 312 of 2005: Zabini vs Malfoy. These are all public documents so it's okay to have a look, but return it to me within a day, won't you Harry?"

            "Thanks!" Harry eagerly took the folder and put it into his briefcase.

            "How's things over at Auror Headquarters? We don't mix enough in this department, I tell you."

            "Great, we have a slight problem with ghoul and boggart infestations, but only because it's getting near Samhain."

            Emmeline nodded. "Oh yes, I remember this time of year when I was working in your side of things, absolutely crazy. Doge and I once worked four days without sleep. Since I switched to the Wizengamot Administration Services, we don't really have such marked busy times of year anymore. Could you sign the Zabini file out here? Remember, you have to return it within 24 hours."

            She walked Harry out of the office.

            "Let's have coffee sometime" Harry said, "And thanks again"

            "Not at all. send Ginny my love!"

            Harry quickly took out the folder in his bag and skimmed it. "Suit Number 312 of 2005: Zabini vs Malfoy. In the matter of the declaration of legal death of Draco Malfoy due to the contamination by an irreversible potion under Section 422.1(a) of the Magical Life Existence Act…"

            When it came to potions, he knew of only one person who could help them. He shut the folder and took out his wand. "Hogsmeade" he said, and disappeared with a crack.

************************************** 

            The council had already assembled in the dark, dungeon-like room on the tenth floor of the Ministry. Harry and Ron were sitting in the spectator's benches at the side. A thin man in magical binds was just leaving, having just been sentenced to six months in Azkaban for poaching Hippogriff eggs.

            "He's not going to show, I tell you!" whispered Ron, looking at his muggle watch for the fiftieth time that morning.

            "He will." Harry said. But even as he said it, he felt his conviction wane. They had been waiting nearly all morning, and now was the turn of the Zabini suit.

            "Suit number 312 of 2005, Zabini versus Malfoy" read the attendant.

            "He's not going to show, damn him!" cursed Ron.

            Across them, at the other spectator benches, Blaise sat looking thin and pale, as her father and his lawyer approached the bench.

            "In the matter of the declaration of legal death of Draco Malfoy due to the contamination by an irreversible potion under Section 422.1(a) of the Magical Life Existence Act, we, the plaintiffs would like to apply for such a declaration based on the grounds that the defendant's potion was technically _irreversible_ and thus, final." Zabini's lawyer, a thin man named Mollock, said smoothly.

            "Does the defendant have any representation?" Tiberius Ogden, who was presiding, looked expectantly around.

            "He does, sir. I am Edward Montague and I represent the defendant."

            "Well? I've read the ministry break-down of the potion and this case seems clear-cut to me." Said Tiberius, who was not one to mince his words, "Do you have any evidence to the contrary, Mr Montague? You know that fay-dust renders a potion irreversible?"

            Mr Montague began to perspire and shuffle his papers. 

"We're waiting, Mr Montague."

A door burst open and the entire gathered Wizengamot turned to see who had arrived.

            "He's here!" said Ron happily.

            "Told you so!" said Harry, secretly relieved.

            "Professor Severus Snape!" said Tiberius in irritatedly. "I must ask you to _knock before you enter my council room next time. We are in the middle of a trial!"_

            "So sorry" said Snape, not sounding sorry at all. He stalked across the room and sat next to Mr Montague. The two men exchanged some words.

            "Sir…" protested Mollock, "This is most unorthodox, I was not informed of any new evidence or witness. I ask that Professor Snape leave at once."

            "I think…not" said Snape, glaring at Mollock with his signature beady eyes. Harry and Ron were on the edge of their seats. They knew that look well. Apparently so did Mollock, because he lapsed into silence. Roberto Zabini and his wife were whispering furiously in the corner.

            "Professor Snape, Mr Monatgue, we do not have all day…please proceed…"

            Mr Montague stood up with a roll of parchment in his hands.

            "The potion is reversible." He said, beaming. Mollock looked sour and Zabini looked outraged.

            "Impossible!" said Mollock. "It was tested by Ministry officials! Fay dust renders it irreversible"

            "The potion is irreversible in its current state because of fay dust. If fay dust makes it irreversible, then fay dust must be removed from the potion." Said Montague.

            "Which…I think we have established, is impossible to do" said Mollock, triumphantly.

            Mr Montague unrolled the sheet of parchment. "Conventionally yes, Mr Mollock- but Professor Severus Snape has informed me of a possible method of removing the fay dust."

            "Which is?" Tiberius Ogden tapped him fingers impatiently on the bench.

            "To ask the fay to remove it." Mr Montague blushed as he said it.

            The court began to laugh. The fifty witches and wizards in plum coloured robes and silver "W"s on their chests simultaneously chortled and choked. If _Dumbledore hadn't retired from the council, would he have laughed at this too?_ Thought Harry, turning red.

            "You cannot be serious?" said Mr Mollock, outraged. "What rubbish is this?"

            "It is my understanding that the fay are capable of magic beyond our understanding. They can bend time, they can add or remove from the essence of all things, they exist yesterday, tomorrow and now…" The court stopped laughing. Severus Snape's words echoed around the chamber.

            Harry was strongly reminded of his first potions lesson where Snape had told them he could teach them to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…

            Tiberius Ogden wrinkled his brow. "Mr Montague, is not what you suggest a very remote possibility?"

            "But it is a possibility, nonetheless." said Snape.

            "We are not sure where the fay are, or how to contact them. They have not been seen for centuries…this fay dust is an anomaly…" Tiberius Ogden spoke aloud as he mulled over the problem.

            "But it _is a possibility." insisted Snape._

            "Let us put it to a vote," said Tiberius. "All those who concur with Snape raise your right hands."

 Harry, Ron and Blaise held their breaths. Amelia Bones was the first to put up her hand, followed reluctantly by Griselda Marchbanks. Slowly, the entire council put up their right hands.

            "It is unanimous. Very well, Mr Montague, it appears your client is _not dead." said Tiberius Ogden. "Suit dismissed." He banged his gavel on the table. Harry and Ron beamed. Blaise looked pink with happiness._

            "Bloody fairies…bloody _fairies!" Roberto Zabini spat at Snape as the parties left the council room. "A likely farfetched story! A ridiculous whale of a tale…"_

            "But…a possibility" said Snape, dryly. "Good day, Mr Zabini."

            Snape bowed shortly and turned away, his black robes flying out behind him as he left a fuming Roberto Zabini in his wake.

            "Professor! Professor!" Harry, Ron and Blaise ran up to Snape before he could leave the ministry.

            Snape looked at them with an long-suffering gaze.

            "What is it this time Potter?"

            "Thank you, we just wanted to say, thank you!" said Blaise, nearly hugging her ex Potions Master but restrained by years of fear of the man from actually doing so. Snape looked faintly amused.

            "We knew you'd think of something" said Ron. "Thanks, Professor."

            "Enough groveling, Weasley. I get enough of that from my Slytherins back at Hogwarts."

            "So," Harry said excitedly, "Does this mean we can reverse the potion and get Hermione back? Er… and Malfoy too?"

            Professor Snape's lips curled into a thin smile. "Calm down, Potter. You won't be seeing your bushy-headed witch friend for a long, looong time."

            The three young people stared at him.

            "You see, Roberto Zabini was right. It really _is a ridiculous whale of a tale…"_

            "But Professor! All we have to do is ask the fairies…" said Blaise, but she was cut off.

            "_Fairies! Hah!" Snape clicked his tongue, "You've been reading too many baby witches' tales, haven't you, Miss Zabini?" Snape said, "There hasn't been a fairy sighted in the British Isles for over five hundred years. I don't know how on earth Miss Granger wangled fay dust into her potion but I'm afraid it's landed her and Mr Malfoy in hot soup. No, I'm afraid your fiancé and Miss Granger are stuck…till they brew their own reverse potion, that is."_

            Harry felt greatly disappointed. He had been so much hoping that they could bring Hermione back. Ron glanced at Blaise.

            "I'm just glad Draco got to keep his fortune" she said quietly. "Father's really going too far. I'm glad I don't have to marry him right away."

            She and Ron exchanged glances and smiled. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry couldn't help but shift uncomfortably.

            "Strange… sentiments, Miss Zabini. In light of the current climate, I strongly recommend you keep them to yourself. Good day- I have a class in ten minutes" he sighed, "Another imbecilic lot of first years. They haven't improved at all since your time." Harry thought there was just the smallest twinkle in his eye, but no! Surely not! This was _Snape__._

            "Good bye professor."

            Snape flicked his wand and disapparated with a crack.

            Harry, Ron and Blaise turned to walk back to the ministry. "Well, I'm going back to work" said Harry.

            "Wait Ron," Blaise turned to Ron, "Are you going for practice now? Thanks awfully for coming, i-it was great to have you two there. Oh, and thanks for this…I wore it, for luck." She turned her left shoulder to him and they both saw her robe fastened with the green brooch from Jorinda's. "It worked!" she smiled. "Harry, see the brooch Ron bought me, isn't it lovely?"

            "_Ron_ bought it for you? Er…yeah it's great…" Harry raised his eyebrows and gave Ron a searching glance. Ron was looking at his feet.

"Thanks so much, Ron."

            "S'allright. Gladyoulikedit" he mumbled.

            "Owl me" said Blaise, smiling at Ron.

            "Okay" said Ron. "I will."

            "Bye Harry. Bye Ron" she said, before getting into an elevator to go to her floor.

            Harry and Ron waited for her to leave.

            "Ron? Would you like to tell…"

            But Ron shook his head and grinned as he pressed five galleons and four sickles into Harry's palm.


	19. Chapter 19: I Don't Belong Here

_O you,_

_Who came upon me once_

_Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,_

_Why did you not strangle me before speaking_

_Rather than fill me with the wild honey of your words_

_And then leave me to the mercy_

_Of the forest bees?_

**Chapter 19: I Don't Belong Here**

Father Lorenzo vacated the pulpit after mass so that Lord Granger could address the servants of the manor.

"I have two announcements to make" said Lord Granger, from the pulpit. The servants looked at each other curiously.

"The first is that Lady Granger is with child again." The congregation broke into rapturous applause. Lord Granger waited for it to die down. There was an expectant silence. 

Hermione, seated in the first pew next to her mother, clenched her fists.

"The second is that my daughter has accepted Baron Burnel of Lancashire as her husband. The wedding will be in three weeks."

There was stunned silence. Then slowly, people began to clap. Lord Granger again waited for the applause to die down.

"I want nothing to get in the way of this wedding. You know I have planned for this my whole life," Lord Granger was speaking very forcefully. "You will all watch my daughter closely to see that she does nothing that might spoil her…happy occasion. She must be well looked after- do not let her leave the inner compound of the manor, do not leave her on her own, make sure we have a well and happy bride." He gave the servants a meaningful glare. Audley, Fanhope and the under-servants who had been involved in the previous night's search understood what he meant.

"Meanwhile, you will all prepare for Baron Burnel's visit. He will arrive in a week. That is all."

Father Lorenzo resumed his place at his pulpit. His expression was grave. Raising his hand, he slowly made the sign of the cross over the congregation. "Dóminus vobíscum."

"Et cum spíritu tuo" replied the congregation.

"Ite, Missa est."

"Deo grátias."

**************************************** **

"She still refuses to eat" whispered the Mary to Hermione's mother. As she brought yet another untouched tray of food out of Hermione's room.

Hermione's mother looked sadly at her daughter. Hermione sat curled on the bench by the window. It looked like she was asleep, but her mother knew she was not.

"Hermione," Lady Granger drew up a chair and sat next to her daughter.

The girl said nothing.

"How long are you going to fight this?"

The girl still said nothing.

"Do you think your father will let you starve yourself to death?"

Hermione hardly heard Lady Granger's voice. Her thoughts were faraway – five hundred years ahead – to a scene the grounds of Hogwarts. Harry and Ron were swinging her by the arms and they were singing a ridiculous song. Draco was watching them from under a tree. _I want to go back. I want to go back._

"If you go on with this willfulness, I will be forced to inform your father."

Everything had gone horribly wrong. What had seemed like an exciting adventure had turned into a nightmare. First, she had let herself get involved with, of all people, Draco Malfoy. Did he love her? He had never said it. Did she love him? She wasn't sure. Worse, she had asked him to break up his engagement- what could she have been thinking! Had the side-effects of the potion affected her memory and judgment that much? Then she had disgraced herself in front of her father and all the servants. She had put Draco's life in danger and would probably never see him again. She was to be married in three weeks to some strange man she had never met before. And worst of all, she had completely ruined her chances of returning to the future.

"I was married when I was thirteen, Hermione. I was scared of your father too. It was frightening, the first time, but then it becomes bearable. If you're afraid, you can talk to me about it."

If only Draco were with her, it would give her some hope! Draco was probably furious with her. She should have turned against her parents that night, told them to go to hell and left with him, but she had been overwhelmed by it all. She knew nothing outside these walls – she had nearly collapsed at the medieval fair, how could she have left just like that? Now it was too late- Draco was alone out there, and he was probably going to return to the future without her. She would die here all alone, and goodness knows what mess that would create for the people of the future.

She felt someone touch her arm.

"You haven't heard a word I've been saying, have you, daughter?"

She turned to look at her mother. Lady Granger saw that Hermione's eyes were full of tears.

"Let me go." she said quietly to Lady Granger. "Let me go. You don't understand, but I don't belong here, I never did."

A pained look crossed Lady Granger's face. "Don't say that, Hermione" she whispered.

Hermione was on the verge of telling her secret to Lady Granger. Anything to escape the marriage.

"If you let me go, I promise that I will never disgrace this family again. You will never hear from me or see me again."

Lady Granger turned white. Hermione was surprised to see fear in her eyes. But she continued, "Mother, you will have another child soon. That is the child that belongs here- not I. My brother or sister will do this family proud and make you and my father happy. Let me go."

Lady Granger's face wore a haunted expression. The look on her face was distressing enough to frighten Hermione. Without a word, Lady Granger got up and crossed herself. She left the room quickly and locked the door.

Her heart beating fast, Lady Granger hurried towards her husband's study. She paused outside his door and raised her hand to knock. But at that moment, she changed her mind. Swiftly, she turned and made her way towards the chapel. She needed to speak to Father Lorenzo.

*************************************** 

"I brought ye the things ye asked for" said Thomas, handing Draco a small sack. Draco looked inside and was relieved to find the fernseed pouch and the dove feathers.

"Thank ye" he said.

Thomas looked worried. "Where'll ye be goin'? If the master finds ye, he'll have your life. I know ye have not a soul in the world, so why not ye stay here for a time? 'Tis the least I can do for a friend."

Draco was extremely touched. "Ye'd do that for me?"

"Aye" smiled Thomas. "Me mam said so to me this morn. She said ye were tired and starved - as if ye are worke'd too hard at the manor. If ye set out like this, she'd nivver forgive herself if ye caught the fever and died."

"Thank ye. I have no better plans myself. I have nowhere to go."

Thomas looked sympathetic, "Aye- when ye came to work on t'manor, they all said ye were orphaned. No one knew where ye came from. 'Twas your old gram that left ye when ye were a young boy, but I'd wager she'd be dead by now."

"My old gram?" Draco was surprised. No one had spoken to him of his past in this life before.

"Must be. She said 'twas time ye earned your living, said she couldn't afford your keep. No one ever saw her again. D'ye remember your gram?"

Draco shook his head.

"'Tis no surprise, ye were a young'un then. Full twelve year ago it was. And Fanhope took pity on ye and set ye to work on t'light chores. Least, that's what t'lads tell me back up at the manor. I only knew ye when I started this here year."

Thomas pulled out a chair and sat down at the rough wooden table next to Draco. 

"They're a-talkin back at the manor. They're a-sayin Lady Hermione will be forced to marry some Baron before the next new moon"

Draco looked up, "What?!"

"Aye, and she is kept like a prisoner, under lock 'n key. They say Lord Granger is in a fearful temper." Thomas might have been a simple-minded sort of chap, but he was very perceptive. He didn't miss Draco's look of misery.

Thomas lowered his voice. "Give 'er up, Draco. Ye be a fine looking lad, there'll be lasses a'plenty elsewhere. I knew 'twas foolishness the first time I saw you two, I should've stopped ye, afore it came to this."

"You knew before?" Draco was surprised.

Thomas grinned, "I guessed. The first time she came to the gardin' lookin' for ye back in May. I guessed."

"She hated me then."

Thomas shrugged. ""Twas a hunch. But it grew. I was afear'd for ye. Whenever she was there, I made talk with Hibbings so ye could talk. And I saw ye at the fayre."

"Thomas, you are one clever lad." said Draco. Then he dropped his head into his hands. "I can't give her up."

"'Tis a romance. A fancy of yours. She's too good for the likes of us. She's lady of the manor, even if she deserted to leave wit' ye, she wouldn't be happy. She'd go running back."

"You're wrong." said Draco. "I'm good enough for her."

Thomas looked at him sympathetically. "P'raps you're touched" he said. "We are servants, common people. She is near royalty on her mother's side."

Draco was getting some of his nerve back. "That doesn't make her have to marry someone she doesn't love!"

"'Tis the way things are with the gentry."

"Thomas" Draco looked thoughtful. "You said she could desert- run away with me."

Thomas looked horrified. "I didn't mean it serious! There would be a price on your head if ye did that. And Lady Hermione would have shamed the whole family."

"But _if_ she did it, and she didn't mind, it would work, wouldn't it?"

"Ye are too selfish, Draco" Thomas disapproved. "Leave the lady alone."

"Please Thomas," said Draco, "You have to help me. You don't understand, I'd explain but…I can't."

Thomas shook his head. "Nay, 'tis too dangerous. Lord Granger would have me flogged."

Draco looked thoughtful, "All right, you don't take a part then. All I ask is that you get Mary Ludlow her nursemaid to meet me- just once, I swear."

Thomas frowned even more deeply than before.

"And what makes ye think she will come?"

Draco fished a quill, ink and parchment out of his sack. He scribbled something on the small piece of parchment and handed it to Thomas. "Give this to her, she will come."

Thomas squinted at the paper. He could not read so it made no sense to him He sighed and put it in his pocket. "All right. But after that I'm not doin' ye any more kindnesses where Miss Hermione is concerned."

Draco nodded. "You won't have to."

********************************* 

"Put your hand into the water and hold it there" said Lady Granger to her daughter.

Father Lorenzo held out the silver bowl to Hermione. Hermione looked surprised but didn't bother to argue. She had far greater problems than this. Obediently, she dipped her hand into the bowl. The water felt pleasantly cool.

"Can I take my hand out now? What is this for, mother?"

Lady Granger and Father Lorenzo exchanged looks.

"Deo Gratias" murmured the old priest, crossing himself.

Her mother began to cry.

_The poem at the start of this chapter is "Carrefour" (French for 'crossroads') and it was written by Amy Lowell, a 19th C poet. I know this was a rather short chapter. The next one is much longer, and a crucial one, I promise._


	20. Chapter 20: Truth Shall Set You Free

_"Deo Gratias" means "Thanks Be To God"_

**Chapter 20: Truth Shall Set You Free**

            Draco was right. Whatever he had written had compelled Mary to meet him.

            And now, after that meeting, Mary Ludlow, Hermione's long-time nurse, entered her Lady Granger's private rooms nervously. She was thankful that Lord Granger was out inspecting his lands, for she bore very dangerous news from someone out of his favour. Mary fingered the small piece of parchment in her pocket nervously. 

"M'Lady?"

            Lady Granger looked up from her book. She was wan and pale- Mary didn't know who looked worse lately, mother or daughter.

            "Yes Mary?"

            Mary nervously shut the heavy oak door behind her and latched it. Lady Granger looked surprised.

            "I bring distressing news." Mary's eyes were dark and frightened.

            Lady Granger sighed. "Speak on. There seems to be nothing but bad news lately."

            Mary Ludlow cleared her throat nervously. "I- Forgive me- but I have just met the lad Hermione was caught with that night."

            Lady Granger shut her eyes. Mary thought she would ask her to leave or to stop talking but Lady Granger merely nodded.

            "H-He gave strange tidings…"

            Lady Granger opened her eyes. "Quickly Mary, get to the point."

            "H-He _knows. I don't know how, but he __knows about Lady Hermione. I swear I did not tell anyone, I have kept silent since I came into your service."_

            "What does he know?"

            "He said that if we forced her to marry against her will, that the future of the Grangers was doomed. He said it could never be."

            Lady Granger gasped.

Mary was wringing her hands now as she continued, "He said there were f-f-fay folk at work, that he and Lady Hermione didn't belong here…see, this is what he wrote when he asked to meet me."

Lady Ganger took the piece of parchment from Mary with shaking hands. It read:

_I know you believe in the fay, Mary._

_I can't explain but they are at work._

_I need to speak to you about Hermione._

Lady Granger threw the parchment aside and put her head in her hands.

"It is true! Mary – it is true."

Mary stood nervously by the side of the distressed lady.

Lady Granger poured out what had happened the previous day, "Hermione herself said she did not belong here, she said that she wanted to go. She said she would cause the death of this whole family and that it was the child in my womb that was the rightful one to continue this line. Then…I went to Father Lorenzo and we did to her what we dared not do for over eighteen years…we touched her with holy water…"

Mary held her breath. Lady Granger smiled sadly.

"Do you know what happened Mary?"

Mary shook her head sadly, "I have heard the tales, whispered rumours, but I could never truly believe them."

"Oh they were true indeed! Eighteen years ago, we tried to baptize Lady Hermione, b-but when the holy water touched her –  …it was terrible…in front of all those people gathered in the church…We thought her scars would never heal…"

Mary Ludlow crossed herself. "So 'tis true?"

Lady Katherine Granger nodded tearfully. "But after last night, when I saw the way she looked at that lad, and how this morning she begged me to let her go because she did not belong, I decided to try again…"

Mary Culdon waited while her mistress searched for the right words.

"_She did not burn, Mary. I watched her hand held in the bowl for a full minute – it _did not burn_!"_

            "Deo Gratias" murmured Mary.

            "Do you know what that means, Mary?"

            Mary nodded slightly. "Yes…it means that what my friend Mary Culdon told you…"

            "…was the truth. She has the Eye. And it also means, Mary, that we cannot let my husband force Lady Hermione into a loveless marriage!"

            "You believe that?"

            "Both my husband and I believed that old crone's words for eighteen years. That is why we always let our daughter choose. But five nights ago, my husband was so angry at her behaviour he turned against superstition and prophesy and swore to marry her off to Baron Burnel. I didn't know what to believe, until I saw with my own eyes that- she did not burn."

            "Through the learning of love, she has become flesh- a holy child of God, as Mary Culdon said it would be." said Mary quietly.

            Lady Katherine's eyes had a desperate look, "Eighteen years ago, when Father Gresham told me my baby was dead, I made a terrible wish. I prayed not only to god but to every spirit in the earth to restore my daughter to me. Yes, even the fay…" She gave a wild laugh and gripped Mary's hand tightly, "That is why we dismissed Father Gresham and banished Mary Culdon, my midwife. They saw what my wish produced…they saw what happened that night…"

            "M'Lady! Calm yourself! You never meant it to be the way it was, you only wished what any mother would do in your position. 'Twas the fay played a trick on you in your weakness!" Mary Ludlow put her arms around her ladyship.

            "I sinned greatly and now I am paying…" Lady Katherine began to cry.

            "M'Lady…please calm yourself." Mary Ludlow patted and stroked the distressed woman. "You are to be a mother again, and this time, nothing will go wrong."

            "I do not know what to do, Mary!"

            "Why don't you pray about it?"

            "I have prayed for eighteen years and God has been silent – till now. Till I saw that she had become holy flesh."

            "The lad has a possible answer."

            "What?"

            Mary Ludlow lowered her voice. "It is what I came about in the first place…he said to me to let your daughter go free. He will look after her. He says if you don't, he knows for certain great woe will befall this family because she does not belong here. He said the fay are still at work."

            Lady Katherine Granger sat perfectly still.

            "If I defy my husband and Baron Burnel, I will bring great shame to this family."

            Lady Katherine sat in silence and Mary Ludlow let her think about it. She dried her tears and took a sip of water.

            "Bring me some ink and parchment," Lady Granger said at last, "I need to write to this peasant boy- there is something I must ask him. It is amazing he can read and write, but nothing surprises me anymore. Perhaps my daughter taught him."

            After Mary Ludlow had pocketed her mistress' letter with instructions to hand it to Draco, she curtseyed her way out of the room. She wished she knew what it said, but Lady Granger had sealed it before she could peek.

After the old nursemaid had gone, Lady Granger stood up and hesitated for a moment before crossing the floor to a small writing desk at the side of the room. Her fingers pressed a wood panel on the side of the desk and a panel on the opposite side slid open to reveal a yellowed and tattered piece of parchment slipped behind it.

            As Lady Granger took out the piece of parchment, her fingers were tremmbling. But the time she had read it through once, her hands were steady and her expression was determined.

************************************** 

            The next morning, at the exact moment Draco received Lady Granger's letter through Mary and began writing his reply, Hermione was having an interview with her father.

"When Baron Burnel arrives tomorrow, you will show him courtesy and respect worthy of your future husband."

            Hermione said nothing.

            "I see you have chosen to be sullen and ungracious about this marriage. It makes no difference, in two weeks, you will be wed and Baron Burnel is the one who will have to deal with your childish willfulness."

            Lord Granger looked at his daughter for signs of panic or misery. But he saw nothing. She was completely expressionless. He had been told by the servants that she had not eaten for three days. Now, her skin was even whiter and more transparent than he recalled, one could almost see the delicate network of veins under their milk-white transparency. He suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't really there, that suddenly she would turn as into mist and vanish.

            "If you do anything to ruin this marriage" he said to her, "You will no longer be considered a daughter of this house. Do you understand my meaning?"

            He jumped as Hermione gave a short laugh. "You are making a terrible mistake father." She said calmly. "This marriage to Baron Burnel can never be. It never took place."

            "What do you mean it never took place? It hasn't even come to be yet!" her father glared at her.

            Hermione's expression was odd. "I don't know how or why, father. I just know that I will never marry Baron Burnel."

            "Are you threatening to take your own life?! Because I will have you bound in chains if you are!"

            Hermione couldn't understand it. She just knew that marrying Baron Burnel was not part of her destiny, if she did so, she would change the course of history. She was from the future, and she found that if she thought hard enough about it, she knew this was never going to take place. But the moment she tried to get her mind around that thought, it slipped away like a fish from broken net.

            "I will not take my own life" said Hermione quietly. "That I can assure you."

            Lord Granger felt his head beginning to swirl. The girl was too self-assured for comfort.

            "You had better not," he said. "Baron Burnel arrives tomorrow. Remember what I have told you."

            Calmly and emotionlessly, Hermione curtseyed to her father and left the room. She shut the door gently behind her. Hermione felt her legs carry her up the stairs to her room. Servants did not meet her eyes as they bowed to her along the way. She was sure they all knew she was in disgrace.

            Letting herself into her room, she lowered herself onto her bed as gingerly as if she were made of glass. She felt that any sudden movement, or any loud sound might shatter her into a thousand pieces. She knew she was surviving only on the barest edge of emotional control – her calm exterior belied a storm of fear and unhappiness within her.

            In the last three days, her mind had gone round and round in circles. She could not marry this Baron Burnel. She had to get back to the future. Her mother had been acting so strangely around her – being in turn reproachful and indulgent, weeping and laughing for no reason at all. And that strange incident with Father Lorenzo and the holy water…

            As had always worked for her during the time since everything had started going wrong, her mind sought comfort in thought of Harry and Ron in the future. Ron and her going to Hogsmeade…Harry and Ron being silly after drinking too much butterbeer… but even as she tried to escape into those happy memories, they faded from her like waking dreams and left her cold.

            Instead, Hermione found her mind constantly turning to images of silver-blonde hair and grey eyes. Of a streak of green above a quidditch pitch. Of shared glances in class. Of long, summer evenings in Flinders wood. And then, happily, of wildflowers, blue hair-ribbons and tender kisses. These were the thoughts that now kept her comforted and happy, each special moment etched in her memory like a bright light in her gloom.

            _Where are you?_

            There came a knock at her door. Hermione didn't bother to answer it, whoever it was would come in anyway.

            Sure enough, Mary Ludlow entered the room and shut the door behind her. There was something odd about Mary's expression, Hermione thought. She looked excited and pink.

            "M'lady…get up please. Your mother wishes to see you."

            Hermione slowly got up from the bed. She swayed a little from hunger and weakness but eventually steadied herself. Mary shook her head. "You must eat something soon or I swear you will catch the fever."

            Hermione said nothing as she followed Mary out of her room and towards her mother's rooms.

            Mary knocked on the door and Hermione heard her mother's voice say, "Enter."

            As soon she entered her mother's rooms, Hermione felt a change in the air. Since the incident four days ago, the atmosphere around Mary and her mother had been tense, emotional and reproachful. But now, there was something different. Hermione didn't know what it was. Lady Granger sat in a chair by the window and indicated that Hermione should take the one facing her.

            Hermione sat down and Mary stood behind her.

            As Lady Granger began to speak, Hermione finally identified what was different about mother. Lady Katherine Granger sounded and looked stronger than she ever had before. 

Hermione's eyes grew wide at her mother's words, but before she could ask any questions, her mother pressed a tattered, aged piece of parchment into her hands and indicated that she should read it. Feeling like she had finally matched a lost key to a lock, Hermione eagerly read the faded writing on the parchment. It was in Latin and the hand was long and loopy…

_In spiritu humilitatis, et in animo contrito suscipiamur, admoneo verbum sapienti sat est…_

_With humbleness and contrition I do advise you with a word…_

_Nothing good can come of keeping the child._

_She is not flesh of this world, she is an abomination to all Christian things._

_You may banish me,  but in all my days I shall not forget the truth of my eyes which saw_

_the__ dead body of your true, Christian, child snatched from the cradle by an unholy_

_force__ and the abomination that was placed in its stead._

_You know and I know that this creature was grown from a rose_

_a__ rose that was placed in the cradle and through the work of the devil,_

_rapidly__ sprouted arms, legs, and head in an unholy parody of God's work!_

_Do not deceive yourself._

_The girl is no child of god._

_Her skin is but the petal of a rose, her limbs the green shoot of the flower,_

_her__ blood mere sap of the plant. You will get no happiness in keeping her._

_She does not belong with us._

_You will experience nothing but unhappiness from this changeling._

_This unholy creature will never learn love, and you know that only by love_

_can__ things be of God. You can have other children._

_God forgive me, but I beg you to drown this foul creature at once._

_I set this down in a record so that even if you are weak and do not_

_Immediately listen to the will of God, you will read this one day and be reminded_

_of the unhappy events enough to change your mind. _

_Veritas__ nunquam perit, veritas vos liberabit._

_            Patri Gresham_

_" Truth__ never dies, truth will set you free….Father __Gresham__."_ Hermione finished the letter.

            So that was how she had managed to inhabit the body of Lady Hermione Granger five hundred years ago without anyone noticing anything different!

            There had been no real Lady Hermione Granger. 

There had never been.

The real daughter of the family had died at birth. Magic had provided a changeling and somehow, when she got thrown back in time, the changeling must have left and she took its place! This was some bizarre magical joke…and she had the bad luck to be at the centre of it all! Why? Why? Why?

But the problem was, they all still thought she was…

"…a changeling, brought by the fay." said her mother. "I watched you grow throughout the years and you have never given me anything but happiness. And I never had another child, so you were my whole world."

"The fay?...But I am most certainly_ not_ a changeling!" Hermione said, touching her mother's cheek. The older woman looked calm.

"Thank God, Hermione. I know _now_ you are not! As I told you before, when we tried to baptize you when you were younger, you burned when you touched holy water. But yesterday…you held your hand in it for a full minute and did not burn!"

"So that proves it!" Hermione said. "But mother, did not the whole congregation suspect when I burned?"

Her mother reached out and touched her cheek.

"They thought you were crying from the cold of the water. The only people who saw were Father Lorenzo, our newly appointed priest, and Mary Culdon – my midwife and your old nursemaid."

_Mary Culdon…_Hermione thought _where have I heard that name before?…__ How in the sweet name of merlin had this whole mess happened? Was it a series of strange coincidences or was some mischievous power at work here? I do not enjoy being a pawn in somebody's fanciful chess game!_

"Mother,What had happened to Father Gresham to be replaced by Father Lorenzo?"

"I swore him to secrecy, I begged him with my whole soul. Father Gresham agreed but he said he would never work here again and left as soon as a wandering priest found his way into our estate – Father Lorenzo, by happy coincidence, arrived just at the right time. Father Lorenzo told your father that it was all nonsense – even when he baptized you and saw you scald he put it down to allergy. He was a practical, sensible man and a great comfort to us all at those times. Even now, he can hardly believe the old tales. You were a beautiful baby, anyone who had not actually seen the swap would not have believed it happened."

"Including father?..."

"Including him. He was very skeptical, though I told him what had happened. It was only until the baptism when he began to believe. I confess, your father and I talked about killing you a few times when you were young, but we never brought ourselves to do it. We couldn't take your life though, we loved, no…we still _love_ you dearly. Even your father, Hermione, even though you are hard-pressed to believe it at this moment."

"But I am not a changeling anymore." Hermione said in wonder. "Remember, I can touch holy water now."

Hermione's mother and her nursemaid exchanged looks. "Yes, you appear to be a real Christian child at last. Read Father Gresham's letter again, Hermione, and you will see why."

Hermione did…_This unholy creature will never learn love, and you know that only by love can things be of God…_

 "Father Gresham did tell us that only if you loved with your whole heart could you become real one day. But he said that as long as you were a changeling, that could never happen. Your father and I did not believe it was impossible for you to love, which is why we always let you choose your suitors."

"L-Love? You think I'm love?" Hermione whispered, realization dawning on her.

            Her mother continued, "We had more warnings as well…from Mary Culdon your old nursemaid. She told me she had had a dream, on Feill-Sheathain, a year before you were born, of your fate. She said you would find love and become whole, but that coupled with that, you would leave us because you did not belong here. If you stayed, great doom would follow. She told me this in confidence, afraid of being burnt as a witch. I believed her but I was so scared I sent her away and replaced her with Mary Ludlow. I believed everything. I myself had implored the earth spirits to give me a child after my real daughter died. I saw the swap happen… and I had to take the consequences."

"Your real daughter?"

            "But Hermione" her mother smiled, "Don't you see? _You are my _real_ daughter now." She squeezed Hermione's hand. "It's all come true, as I believed it would. You _did_ find love albeit with the peasant boy, you _have_ become whole, and soon…I believe it will be time for you to leave us. You do not belong here, I have another child on the way."_

            Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "Y-You mean you're going to help me escape? I don't have to marry Baron Burnel?!" _If there was a mischievous power using her them all as pawns, then maybe…Veritas vos liberabit Hermione thought hopefully to herself __the truth shall set us all free._

            Hermione's mother did not answer straight away. Instead, she fingered something in the folds of her skirt. Hermione heard the rustling of parchment. When Lady Granger looked up, Hermione saw genuine concern in her mother's eyes.

            "I will help you escape…on one condition."

            At that point, Hermione was willing to consider anything to escape. "Yes, of course, what is it, mother?"

            Lady Katherine Granger smiled and took out another piece of parchment from her among her skirts. She placed it on the table in front of Hermione and she immediately recognized Draco's elegant writing. Before she could begin to read the letter properly, Lady Granger grasped her daughter's hands in her own- "The condition is that you prove to me you truly love this boy…you must agree to his proposal of marriage.


	21. Chapter 20 Part 2: One More Week Again

**Chapter 20 (Part Two)**

  
  


On 13 Dec 2003, ffnet put up a notice stating that all chapters must contain story content and cannot simply contain author's notes. I am a little nervous about what they mean by "there is a ten day grace period before we start _ENFORCING_" this rule, so I thought I'd put in story content here, after the Author's Note, just to avoid trouble. 

The story content is actually just a repeat of Chapter 1.

**Hi there**

**1) My other Draco-Hermione story on ffnet "The Blood Of The Dragon" has WON the Promoting Interhouse Relations Award (PIR Award) organized by the great people at the Contra Veritas website! (If you don't know the Contra Veritas website, you ain't a true-blue D/Hr shipper…it's my favourite D/Hr site!) A huge THANK YOU to whoever voted for me!**

**2) I have set up a very basic website giving information about my ffnet stories with poster art of both my TBOTD and OUAT stories. It is still under construction but you can have a peek at it first. You can find the URL link at my ffnet bio page. Simply click on my name DeChantal at the top of this page and you should go to my bio page. Remember to go to the "Click HERE to learn more about this story" link for the fanfics- that is the whole point of the webpage.**

**Jane**

************************************************

**This is the story of two star-crossed lovers…It all started like this….**

"…**.ONCE UPON A THYME….**

**Chapter 1: One More Week**

"Tomorrow's the last paper!" said Ron in relief.

"What did you put for question 9?" asked Hermione worriedly as she followed Ron and Harry out of the Transfiguration classroom.

"Hermione, I thought we _told_ you that we don't like to discuss examination questions after the paper." Harry said, cleaning his glasses on his robes.

Hermione frowned. "Yes but- I just wanted to know whether it was necessary to specify the wand action _as well as_ the incantation for the Veraverto to get full marks. Of course, I did specify both and the whole history of the spell as well…"

Ron and Harry rolled their eyes.

"Who bloody cares?" said Ron gloomily. "I forgot what Veraverto meant in the first place. I left it blank."

Hermione was scandalized. "You didn't!"

"I did," said Ron, and grinned at her.

"B-But…it was worth ten marks! You could have put something, anything…"

"Hermione, forget it" Harry said replacing his glasses on his nose. The trio walked out of the castle into the grounds of Hogwarts. A crisp spring breeze was blowing. Harry suddenly flung his satchel to the ground and gave a huge leap into the air.

"WOOOH!" he shouted.

Several students turned round to stare at him. Seamus grinned at him and waved.

Harry waved back.

Ron flung his satchel down too and joined Harry in his war-dance of happiness.

For Harry, the last two weeks had been a living nightmare- one difficult NEWT paper after the other…he couldn't believe it was nearly over! He realized he had forgotten nearly everything he had studied for his first NEWT paper- The History of Magic. His mind was a total blank where History of Magic was concerned. It felt GREAT! Harry whooped in joy.

Hermione clutched her bag tightly to her side but even she couldn't help smiling. The fresh spring breeze and budding flowers were having an effect even on her. She watched happily as her two best friends leapt around each other singing tunelessly at the tops of their voices, "NO MORE EXAMS! NO MORE EXAMS!"

"All right you guys," Hermione said.

"Come on, Hermione!" yelled Harry as he grabbed her hands and pulled her into their ridiculous war-dance.

"Hey….HEY!" gasped Hermione, feeling silly and out of breath as she was flung around.

Out of the corner of her eye, she felt someone watching them.

Malfoy.

Again.

She felt something heavy land inside her chest. 

Even after seven years, he never failed to make her feel uncomfortable and angry. His hatred for mudbloods was only slightly diminished, if at all, after the Mudblood Revolt last summer had put his father and his other death-eater cronies into Azkaban. Following the Revolt, the Ministry had issued the Equality of Magical Persons Decree which legislated non-discrimination against half-bloods and mud-bloods- but the Decree only had the effect of affecting the surface attitudes of many Pureblood supporters, like the Malfoys. She was convinced that beneath the surface, people like Draco Malfoy hadn't changed at all.

She wrenched her gaze away from his and put him out of her mind. Why had he been watching her the whole of final term, the creep? Weren't the attentions of Blaise Zabini enough to occupy his perverted intentions? She had been after him like a dog in heat for years and had recently made it known to the whole school that they were getting married after graduation. Hermione thought with relief that after next week, she would never have to voluntarily be within ten miles of Malfoy again. Why let him ruin her last week of school?

Draco caught Hermione's eye as her friends whirled her around in a ridiculous dance. He noticed that she hadn't joined in straight away- it was started by that childish Potter and Weasley. They had dragged her in half way. What was wrong with them? At eighteen- they should be behaving like men, not four year-olds.

Malfoy felt his coming of age like a leaden cloak around his shoulders. The day his father had been sentenced to life-imprisonment in Azkaban, he had handed Draco the family seal- a beautiful gold and emerald signet ring- and entrusted him with the running of Malfoy Manor and fortune.

Draco had been only seventeen then and already he had to function as head of a large household- he had to balance accounts that he had never seen before, run investments that he had never heard of, meet people he did not know. And all the while, see to it that his mother received proper care since her mind began failing once her husband entered Azkaban.

_Mother_. Draco thought. She had been under his father's imperius for so many years that her mind had forgotten how to function on its own. The healers from St Mungos had wanted to keep her there permanently, but Draco would have none of that. She was a Malfoy. She would remain at the Manor with he best nursing the Malfoy money could buy. Father would have wanted it that way.

_Father_. Draco thought. Now in Azkaban, his dreams of power crushed after Wonder-Boy-Potter had destroyed Voldemort after the Mudblood Revolt. _Lucius, you were a fool_ Draco thought bitterly. _It was clear from the start that Voldemort would never have shared power with you anyway_. That was his father's mistake. He had served another. The Malfoys never served others- it was against the family honour. But Lucius had been seduced by promises of power and glory and now, it had come to… this. It was up to Draco to rebuild the tattered Malfoy name and honour. Those years of damage done by Lucius had to be erased.

And Draco knew that one of the most effective ways of rebuilding family honour was to align oneself with other powerful pureblood families. It had not been hard to arrange a marriage with the Zabini daughter. He knew Blaise had had a crush on him for years. Fortunately, she was not ugly either- not like pug-faced Pansy or bull-bodied Millicent. He had felt no love when he asked her to marry him. The only emotion coursing through him at the time was desperation to rebuild the Malfoy name. So the wedding was scheduled for December in the year of their graduation from Hogwarts.

Seven months away.

He watched as Granger and her friends picked up their bags from the grass and straightened their cloaks. They were laughing and talking but were too far away for him to hear what they were saying. Draco envied them their carefree happiness but he turned his envy into hatred. It was too painful to admit for what it really was. After next week, he would likely never see them again- Scarhead, Weasel and….Granger. The mudblood. One of _the _mudbloods responsible for ruining his family and thrusting adulthood upon him at such a young age. _What _ was it about her that had repulsed and fascinated him for years? Anyway, why let them ruin his last week of school?

He turned and walked off.

********************************** 

"Ferret Boy was watching us again," said Ron casually as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. Harry nodded.

"Wrong" Hermione said quietly.

"You saw him, he was right under that tree. Creepy really, how he seems to follow us around without picking a fight or insulting us or anything. Just stands there all googly eyed." Said Ron.

"What do you mean, 'wrong' Hermione? Haven't you noticed? Hanging around us in the library, watching us at the lake…this final term's been really odd. It's like Malfoy's become all weird on us after his father got sent to Azkaban- he used to insult us and be so nasty...but now all he does is mooch around and er…mooch." Harry said thoughtfully.

Hermione shook her head. "You're wrong. He's not been watching _us_…he's been watching _me_."

Ron's eyes opened in surprise. "Say what?"

Hermione gave an impatient sigh. "You only notice him when we're together, all three of us. Have you ever noticed him when you're alone with Harry or all alone for that matter? No?" she watched as both boys shook their heads. "Well, I've noticed him watching me even when I'm not with you. I could be alone or with Ginny or Lavender or anybody and there Malfoy is, watching." She gave a shudder.

The trio climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

"Hard luck, Hermione" said Ron, shaking his head in sympathy.

"Yeah, I wonder what's up with Malfoy?" said Harry.

"If he tries anything funny with our Hermione" said Ron fiercely, slamming his fist into his palm. "I bet he's just waiting for a chance to attack her…I always knew that he became all weird after the Mudblood Revolt and his father and everything."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron" said Hermione calmly. "Malfoy's not so stupid as to _attack_ me. He can't risk attacking a mudblood after the decree...they're really clamping down on that sort of thing at the Ministry now."

"Well all I'm saying is…"

"Is it bothering you Hermione?" asked Harry in concern. "I could talk to him or something. Get him to stop."

"No…besides, we don't have any real proof." Said Hermione reasonably. "There's just one more week of school…let's not spoil it."

"I agree" said Harry.

"I guess so," said Ron. Ron still harboured a deep dislike of all the Malfoys- Lucius Malfoy had always tried to make life difficult for Ron's father at work.

"And besides," said Hermione as she lugged her heavy bookbag up the stairs, "his father is in Azkaban and his mother is sick. We shouldn't give Malfoy a hard time as long as he doesn't actually get in our way."

Harry and Ron's eyes opened in amazement as Hermione disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Did she just say what I think she said about Malfoy?" said Ron in disgust.

"I think she's been studying too hard for the NEWTS" said Harry as he and Ron settled down on the sofa with their Potions textbooks. Other final year Gryffindors were sprawled around the room cramming for the Potions NEWT. The younger Gryffindors had considerately left the common room to their seniors to study and most were in the Great Hall or dormitories.

The final examination tomorrow was Potions. Harry was dreading the paper- Professor Snape had informed his class last week that he was sure they would all fail abysmally judging by their performance in his class throughout the years. Of course, he hadn't included his dear Slytherins in that little speech- it had been a Hufflepuff/Gryffindor double potions lesson. Harry considered what he would do if he failed Potions. His dream of becoming an Auror would be destroyed…he supposed he could always become a teller at Gringgott's bank…or a clerk at the Ministry of Magic. He shuddered.

Gloomily, Harry opened his textbook to a random page- he had read it through three times already and hardly cared what he studied now. His eyes fell on a spell they had covered early in their seventh year and he began to mutter it to himself. "How to brew a Thyme Eliminus potion…."

  
  



	22. Chapter 21: Your Lady Loves You

**Chapter 21: Your Lady Loves You**

            As a young girl, Hermione was fond of playing out her wedding in her imagination. She had imagined wearing a beautiful, white gown and walking down the aisle of a packed church festooned with orange blossom. There would be a pipe-organ playing and a choir to sing hymns. After that, she would have a small reception, in the park – or perhaps, in a fashionable hotel. 

On many occasions, the imaginary groom had been Viktor Krum. After she had broken up with him, she had sometimes pictured Ron, or Seamus Finnegan in the role.

            She felt someone take her hand from her lap and hold it tightly. She looked up into the eyes of her groom-to-be. 

He wasn't Viktor Krum, Ronald Weasley, or Seamus Finnegan. 

He was Draco Malfoy.

There was no white gown or orange blossom. There was no organ or choir. She wore her plainest clothes – a dark, gray gown – and she and Draco were all alone in the darkened church.

Draco looked very calm. She got that strange feeling that he was in total control again and just at that moment, it felt good to be looked after. She rested her head against his shoulder and felt him stroke her hair.

They hadn't spoken much since they had met for the first time in a week five minutes earlier. Both didn't know what to say – what had started out as a summer romance, had suddenly turned into something far more serious than they had imagined possible. Her mother was convinced that she was in love with Draco- and that was what had turned her fay blood human. But Hermione knew that her mother did not have the whole story. She wasn't the changeling her mother knew. Wherever that changeling had gone, Hermione's Thyme Eliminus had stuck her in its place. 

With Draco.

And they had always _hated each other._

Sure, they got along much better now, but did Draco even know what he was doing by proposing to her?

Did she agree out of desperation to escape from this place?

But no…surely Draco must know. And surely she was not just blindly agreeing…after all, hadn't there been kisses, and roses, and a very special Midsummer's Dream? _Are we destined to play this part? Was destiny writ before the start?_

All too soon, time was up.

Father Lorenzo finished donning his robes and emerged from the sacristy carrying his bible. Behind him, Hermione saw her mother and nursemaid emerge as well.

The church was lit only by the light of the altar candles, and Hermione let Draco lead her up the dark aisle to the front. He released her hands and they stood, face to face. She felt by turns warm and cool – one minute, there was a mad excitement in her, the next a chilling feeling of uncertainty. _Why this madness, this strange desire? Wherefore this unearthly fire? She closed her eyes to calm her feelings for a second – she felt dizzy and lightheaded, like she had during the Potions NEWT. What was happening to her again?_

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." said the priest.

Everyone gathered there, except Draco, automatically made the sign of the cross.

As soon as the blessing passed the priest's lips, Hermione felt the dizziness leave her. Once again, she felt like herself, and gave her full attention to the ceremony.

"Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum."

"Amen" said the gathering, including Draco.

"Who gives this woman in holy matrimony?" 

"I do," said Hermione's mother.

"Are there two witnesses present?"

"There are" said her mother and her nurse.

"Then let us begin…_Draco__ Malfoy, do you take Hermione Granger, here present, for your lawful wife, according to the rite of our holy Mother, the Church?"_

Hermione heard the priest's words float in from faraway, like a radio playing from the opposite side of the room. She could hardly believe this was happening. It seemed the whole world had receeded into distant memory – Hogwarts, the future, even the past, floated away from her leaving standing alone on the cold stone floor of a deserted church.

Draco's voice cut through the mists of isolation around her. She heard his voice say, strongly, "I do."

"_Hermione Granger, do you take Draco Malfoy, here present, for your lawful husband, according to the rite of our holy Mother, the Church_?"

Draco's felt his heart skip a beat in the moment before Hermione answered, "I do."

 "Then join hands and repeat after me, you first lad…_I, Draco Malfoy_,"

"I, Draco Malfoy…"

"_take__ you, Hermione Granger,"_

"take you, Hermione Granger,"

"_to__ be my wife and I espouse you;"_

"to be my wife and I espouse you;"

"_and__ I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions;"_

"and I commit to you the fidelity and loyalty of my body and my possessions;"

"_and__ I will keep you in health and sickness"_

"and I will keep you in health and sickness"

"_and__ in any condition it please our Lord that you should have,"_

"and in any condition it please our Lord that you should have,"

"_nor__ for worse or for better will I change towards you"_

"nor for worse or for better will I change towards you 

"_till__ death do us part."_

"till death do us part."

Draco's voice did not falter. He looked steadily into Hermione's eyes and willed that she could hear his thoughts. _I know this is sudden, and you're scared, Hermione. I mean to keep my vows._

Father Lorenzo nodded and turned to Hermione.

"Mistress Hermione, repeat after me. _I, Hermione Granger…"_

Father Lorenzo paused and waited for Hermione to repeat the words. But all that followed was silence.

_Kisses, roses, a midsummer dream…things are not always as they seem. _Suddenly, the bride leaned forward and buried her head in the groom's shoulder. The couple held each other tightly.

_Oh come on Hermione, _Draco thought, _Don't__ back out now! _

"I love you" he murmured to her, as he felt her start to shake. "Everything will be all right."

Suddenly, Draco felt the hairs begin to stand on the back of his neck. He felt as if someone was watching him. And, by the gods, what was that _smell? And doesn't anyone else smell it?Roses! _I can smell_ _roses!__

As Draco held Hermione tightly to his chest, he shivered as he thought he heard a whisper in the air…

_We wove everything, round and round,_

_But your lady loves you on her own._

"Draco…" whispered Hermione, looking up at him with tears in her eyes, "_I, Hermione Granger…"_

**************************************** 

            After the ceremony, Draco and Hermione Malfoy signed their names in the parish record book, and Lady Katherine Granger and Mary Ludlow witnessed it. Father Lorenzo shut the book and placed it aside.

            On the fourth finger of Draco's left hand was a gold ring, set with rubies. It was given to Hermione by her mother to use as a wedding ring. Lady Granger had offered to give Draco a wedding ring as well, but Draco had refused the offer. Draco was insistent that he provide his bride with a wedding band through his own means. That was how it came to be that on Hermione's left ring finger rested a gold band set with emeralds. It had the letter "M" inscribed on it entwined with snakes.

            "Goodbye, mother" said Hermione, her eyes shining with tears. "I don't know how to thank you."

            Hermione's mother was crying as well. "You don't have to thank me. I am your mother." The two ladies kissed and embraced.

            "Good bye Mary."

            Mary heaved an enormous sob and flung her arms around Hermione. "You be careful, Hermione! I wish you luck and lots of lots of beautiful children. And think of your old Mary sometimes, won't you?"

            Hermione promised with fervour.

            "Thank you, Lady Granger. I will look after your daughter well." said Draco, kissing her ladyship's hand.

            "I know you will." Lady Granger said. She handed Draco a soft leather pouch. "Take this money, my son. Go far away from here, get out of Mildenstowe by tonight. Hermione's old nurse Mary Culdon lives in Aldeburgh, I know she will shelter you there."

            Draco nodded and pocketed the money. He was wearing better clothes for the wedding- He had managed to borrow a clean suit for himself from Thomas who was around his size. From the way Thomas had given him the suit, Draco knew that he didn't expect it back. "For ye weddin'" Thomas had said, thumping him on the back. "'I'll not be needin' it. Tis the least I could do – for a friend."

            Father Lorenzo also gave his blessing to the newlyweds. He handed Hermione a slip of parchment.

            "There was no time to read it at your wedding. It gives the advice I would have given to you had it been a full mass. It is a passage you and I have studied together, but I believe it will hold more meaning for you now."

            Hermione nodded and handed the parchment to Draco, her husband, who put it away with the money pouch.

            _My husband she thought._

            "You take good care of her, hear?" Mary said, glaring at Draco. "I looked after her for eighteen years, though she's a handful, she's worth every bit of it, I tell you."

            "Yes, I know." Draco grinned.

            Lady Granger laughed through her tears, Father Lorenzo gave Hermione a final kiss on the cheek, and Mary waved goodbye.

            Draco and Hermione Malfoy slipped out of the chapel and ran to the side-gates.

The last thing Hermione remembered about the manor, was the clang of metal behind her.

*********************************** 

            Thankfully, there was a full moon that night which made traveling easier.

            "Well, Hermione…which route shall we take?" asked Draco, gently, after they had walked some miles toward the town of Mildenstowe.

            "Aldeburgh is fifty miles north." Hermione said. "One day by a swift horse, three days by foot. We need a horse."

            Draco jangled the gold guineas in his pouch. "I think we can arrange that." He wasn't used to having money again. It had been far too long since his purse was full. "There is an inn in Mildenstowe. They have horses there- we could buy or rent one for the journey, I'm sure."

            Hermione nodded, drawing her traveling cloak closer around herself. Summer was nearly at an end and it was chilly. She also hadn't eaten much for five days, and felt dizzy, but she was determined not to let on that she felt weak. She earnestly wanted to get out of Mildenstowe before her father found out in the morning.

            Draco squeezed Hermione's hand, warming it in his own. Her fingers were icy. Draco realized that although they were together again, this was so unlike the warm summer evenings spent by Flinders Wood. They hadn't a care in the world then, there had been laughter and much talk. But now his new wife was silent and frightened, and they were both on the run.

            Hermione wanted to stop and put her arms around Draco. There had been no time for such affections either before or after the rushed wedding. Although at the moment he had taken his vow, she was sure he loved her, it was almost too much for her to believe that she was now Mrs Draco Malfoy. Love, she could handle. The responsibility of being a wife, was frightening.

            A few weeks earlier, they had crossed this field laughing and singing a song about a white cow. The sun was high above them, and they looked forward to a day at the fair. Now, they hurried across the field, not wasting time for talk, not feeling in the mood for laughter, without knowing what lay ahead of them.

            Hermione focused on Draco's hand pulling her along. She was glad he seemed so in control, because the stress of the last few days had worn her out. The town was not far, they covered the mile in half an hour and found themselves at the  inn.

            "We need a horse" said Draco, to the sleepy innkeeper who answered his knock on the door.

            "A horse? At this time of night?"

            "We have just received news that my wife's mother is very sick in Aldeburgh. We must make it in time."

            The innkeeper looked sympathetic. "Aye, well then, do you have a gold piece?"

            Draco nodded and placed the coin in the man's hand.

            "Follow me," said the innkeeper, letting them through the inn to the stableyard behind. Hermione followed Draco and the innkeeper to choose a horse. The innkeeper opened the stall of a dappled grey.

            "This is Ben. 'Es a good horse, and will carry ye to Aldeburgh in a day."

            Draco looked appraisingly at the horse. He had had many horses back in Malfoy Manor and loved to ride. He ran his hand along the side of the horse- the flank and shoulders were muscular, showing that this was a well-exercised horse. He watched carefully as the innkeeper led the horse out of the stall. Ben showed no sign of lameness or hoof-rot.

            "I-I don't know how to ride" whispered Hermione to Draco.

            "I'll hold on to you" he whispered back. "It's not that hard."

            The innkeeper finished saddling the horse and Draco took the reins from him.

            "You leave 'ol Ben with Crunther at the Bull's Head, eh?" said the innkeeper. "You tell'im Salter sends his greetings."

            Draco nimbly swung himself onto the horse. He then turned to Hermione. "Step up to the mounting block. Put one leg in the stirrup and slide yourself onto the back of the horse. Mr Salter is holding the horse for you and I'm right behind you."

            Gritting her teeth, Hermione did as she was told. This wasn't as hard as riding a Thestral. At least she could see the horse, and there was a saddle. She found herself a long, long, way from the ground.

            Hermione felt immediately safer when she felt Draco's arms around her. She was finally seated comfortably, side-saddle, in front of him.

            "Hang on." He said to her, and kicked in his heels.

And they were off.

            It was much more uncomfortable than she imagined. Thestrals had been much smoother. This horse jiggled up and down, and already, she was beginning to feel sore.

            "Relax" said Draco, who looked completely at home in the rider's seat. "You are tensing too much. If you relax and go with the motion of the horse, it will be more comfortable."

            Hermione relaxed a fraction of an inch. It did feel better.  She hung onto Draco's neck and rested her head against his shoulder.

            "Comfortable, Hermione?"

            "All right, Draco." She said, quietly.

            Draco breathed in the spicy scent of her hair. For the first time that night, he allowed himself to relax. _I have a wife, he told himself, and smiled. __Hermione is my wife. He urged Ben to a slightly faster trot and felt Hermione's arms tighten around him. He didn't know how he was going to explain everything to everyone back in the future. He would be considered as having broken a wizard's engagement and have to sign away half his fortune to the Zabinis. Not to mention that he would probably also be cast out of Pureblood society for marrying a muggleborn. And yet, all that didn't seem to matter very much anymore! Were blood differences really such a big deal back in his time? Had he really been so prejudiced against muggleborns and half-bloods? It all seemed like a dream… which if he tried too hard to remember, would maddeningly slip away from him._

            Hermione stirred against him and he felt her breathing even out. He knew she was dozing in his arms. _My muggleborn wife_, he thought, as he kissed the top of her head. _What does blood matter when you can make me feel this way?_

After many hours, Draco finally felt himself begin to tire. Dawn was breaking which meant they had to have been riding nearly six hours. He felt Ben begin to strain. It was time to take a rest. He started looking out for possible places and saw that they were nearing a small copse which looked secluded enough to conceal them.

            Draco turned the horse toward the trees and whispered to Hermione, "Hey, wake up. We're taking a break."

            "Are we there?" asked Hermione, sleepily.

            "No, but we've covered a lot of distance. The horse is tired, as am I."

            Hermione opened her eyes and found her head pressed against the soft material of Draco's shirt. She breathed in his familiar scent and lifted her face to his.

            "Good morning, Mrs Malfoy" he said, letting go of the reins with one hand and running his fingers through her hair. Hermione smiled, and he saw some of her old spirit enter her eyes. "You need to shave" she said, kissing his chin.

            Draco took this as encouragement. Ben was forced to stand still as the two riders on his back engaged in some serious kissing. Finally, he stamped his foot impatiently and snorted.

            "I think Ben's thirsty" said Draco, as he helped Hermione off the horse.

            "Me too" she said, and stretched. "I had a good sleep."

            Draco felt his eyes beginning to close as he handed Hermione his flask of water. "Unlike me," he said, and yawned.

            "Here, Ben" Hermione led the horse to a puddle, where Ben began to drink thirstily. She patted him. "Good horse. Thanks for the ride."

            "So, d'you like riding?" asked Draco, settling himself under a tree.

            "It's all right," Hermione said, sitting down next her husband. "And you're a good rider."

"There're lots of horses back in Malfoy Manor. I learned to ride when I was six. I'll teach you when we get back…" his voice trailed off.

She watched as the pale light of dawn crept softly over his fine features. His silver-blonde hair flopped gently into his eyes and she reached out to touch it. She looked appreciatively at his muscular chest, extremely toned from years of Quidditch and the last few months of hard labour.

Tentatively, she stared at her wedding ring. She knew how much that ring meant to him. Even if it was only a temporary wedding ring till they got back, she knew it had meant a great deal to him to give it to her. And despite everything that he had found hard to accept about her, he had found strength in himself to change his beliefs and marry her. Well, who would have expected the Slytherin had it in him?

_You said you loved me. Then why am I still unsure?_

As the morning sun broke through the hazy October sky and lit Draco with its warm glow, Hermione felt an urgent need to be close to her husband.

"Draco, don't go to sleep yet." she murmured, stroking his cheek.

            Draco opened his eyes and saw Hermione smiling at him. His new wife bent to kiss him and he watched in wonder as she began to loosen the ties at the back of her dress. The air was full of the sweet smell of roses again, just like it had been in the church…this time it didn't frighten him. As her dress fell away from her, leaving her shoulders bare, Draco felt heat rush through him. Hermione didn't stop there. Quickly, her fingers undid the stays at the back of her corset and she shrugged it off.

            She was every bit as gorgeous as he remembered. No, more so. His eyes clung hungrily to every inch of her bare skin, feeding his body with the most delicious urges. Hermione didn't flinch under his gaze, she looked a bit shy, but there was a hint of eagerness about her.

            "I love you too" Hermione said, as she felt Draco wrap his arms around her, and pull her to the ground.


	23. Chapter 22 and 23: Mary Culdon

**Chapter 22/23: Mary Culdon**

Lady Katherine Granger shook with nervousness as she entered her husband's study. She decided it was best to inform her husband herself rather than wait for him to find out from one of the servants.

            "Good morning, Katherine" said her husband, going through a stack of parchment.

            "Good morning, Gareth. I …"

            "I have just received Baron Burnel's side of the marriage contract. Everything is most satisfactory. He will arrive later today, you remember. I am pleased everything is in order."

            Lady Granger shut the door firmly behind her. Her husband looked up in surprise at her – it was not her habit to slam doors.

            "Katherine," he said, looking at her grave expression, "What is the matter?"

            Lady Granger took a deep breath.

            "It's Hermione isn't it? What has happened to our daughter? Has she taken her own life? What…"

            "No…nothing of the sort, Gareth. Let me speak." said Lady Granger to her husband. "And you must promise not to interrupt me till I finish speaking."

            Lord Granger made an impatient gesture with his hand. "If it is about letting our daughter marry for love again, you can save your breath, woman. I am done with that old nonsense."

            "Will you let me speak without interruption?" Lady Granger sounded stern.

            Lord Granger was surprised. "As you wish."

            "Two days ago, I had a talk with our daughter which made me remember the past all too clearly. She said some things that could not be coincidence, Gareth. I went to Father Lorenzo and we tested her with Holy Water…"

            "Holy Water, but you know what…"

            "You promised not to interrupt me…Holy Water. She did not burn."

            "Did not burn!"

            "Yes. It is all coming true. I know we have tried touching her with it through the years, and always the result has been injurious in the extreme, but two days ago, her skin remained as fair and unmark'd as…as…the petals of a rose."

            "Do not remind me! You and your weakness all those years ago…"

            Lady Granger continued, ignoring her husband. "So you see, it is _true. She __is capable of love! She is no longer the creature we thought she was, she is now a holy, Christian child. You can ask Father Lorenzo, he saw it himself!"_

            "Love! But- .."

            "And I could not let you ruin her one chance at salvation by forcing her into a loveless match. What does it matter if she had to find love on her own terms and it was not one of the suitors we presented to her? What does it matter? Gareth, I tell you it matters not because…"

            "Matter? It…"

            "…because she is more important to me than anything in the world. I never considered her anything but my own flesh and blood, be it that we both know she was born from a rose. God or some spirit answered my wish and the child has been the best of daughters to me, and to you also I may add, Gareth so…"

            "So what?"

            "…so I did what I had to do. I made up for my sin eighteen years ago by ensuring God received a soul. I spoke to both of them and I saw that she and the stablehand, his name is Draco Malfoy, loved each other truly. I asked each if they were willing to give to each other the fidelity of their body and possessions…"

            "Body and possessions! You mean…"

            "…in sickness and in health, whatever God's will…"

            Lord Granger rose from the table, the marriage contract with Baron Burnel scrunched in his clenched hands.

            "…and they would both have it thus! They were married last night by Father Lorenzo! God speed them, they are far away from here, and I believe I have done right, and atoned for my sin, and I do wish them, and you as her loving father should wish them as well, all the health and happiness they deserve!"

            "KATHERINE! I MUST GO AFTER HER! GET MY HORSE!"

            "THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO NOW! They are already married! And nothing can break that union except God himself!"

            Lady Granger stood her ground as her husband shook the marriage contract under her face and turned purple in the face.

            "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO US?"

            "W-What?"

            "I signed my half of the contract yesterday! It is in Baron Burnel's hands now, taken to him by a messenger! By your actions, we have broken the engagement and will have to forfeit our daughter's dowry!"

            "Y-You signed it already?" Lady Granger paled. "But husband, it is not the custom to sign it till both parties meet in the flesh!"

            "Custom- hah! I wanted everything to go as quickly as possible. Our daughter was behaving so madly I was afear'd for her life and did everything as fast as I could! Do you know what is in her dowry?!"

            "What?" asked Lady Granger, faintly.

            "Three fourths of our lands! THREE FOURTHS OF OUR LANDS!" Lord Granger began to laugh.

"S-so much! Why?"

"I wanted to do right by her- I didn't want her to think I didn't love her and was forcing her into a loveless marriage! Hah! So I gave her as much as I could! AS MUCH AS I COULD TO SHOW HER I LOVED HER!"

            Her husband threw the marriage contract against the wall and sat down laughing. He began to shake and tremble. Horrified, Lady Granger put her arms around her husband and soothed him.

            "Hush, Gareth. Hush, my sweet. All is not lost!"

            "I am only a lowly Lord, Katherine. Baron Burnel is royalty. He is fifth cousin to the King. If he were to make a complaint against me to the Crown…"

            "Oh Gareth hush…"

            "…alleging that our family has shamed him…"

            "He is an unscrupulous man. I did not really want Hermione to marry him. But he was so rich, and titled, and I was so angry at that wench!"

            "Hush!"

            "I WILL NOT BE SILENT!" said Lord Granger, rising and throwing off his wife's arms. Lady Granger staggered back.

            Lord Granger stalked forward and picked the crushed marriage contract off the floor. He slammed it onto the table between him and his wife.

            "You see what misfortune that…_creature_ has caused us!"

            "Gareth, do not call…"

            "An _unholy abomination_! Do you not remember Father Gresham's words?"

            "Everyday! But…"

            "DO NOT EVER SPEAK TO ME OF THAT CREATURE AGAIN. As far as I'm concerned, I had no daughter. Our _only_ daughter _died at birth."_

            "Eighteen years she has been the best of daughters to us! She has loved you and called you father and you now disown her? Haven't you always wanted her to marry for love? How has she wronged you?"

            "Have you lost your mind woman? Our daughter has been cavorting with a servant! She is now married to that base-born servant! When they make love, his sweat smells like horse filth!" 

Lady Granger closed her eyes.

"A daughter of this family frolicking with base-born dirt! Not only that, Baron Burnel has been humiliated in the worst way! She has shamed this family beyond belief!"

            "No, you are wrong! Wrong!" Lady Granger tried to press a piece of parchment into her husband's hands. "Read this and you will see this so-called base-born stablehand has a heart of gold."

            "What is this?" Lord Granger squinted at the letter.

            "It is his marriage proposal! No stretch of the imagination would call the sentiments he expressed there _base_!"

            Lord Granger immediately tore it up and flung the shreds back at his wife.

            His wife gasped.

            Lord Granger turned and stormed out of his study, leaving his shaking wife with the words, "Baron Burnel arrives in two hours! You have the honour of informing him of the whole wretched situation. I hope you enjoy it."

****************************************** 

            Aldeburgh was a much larger town than Mildenstowe. Arriving there in the afternoon, Draco and Hermione realized that it was impossible to start searching for Mary Culdon that day. They were much too tired and the town far too big. Besides, she might be living in one of the outlying farm communities. They decided to go to ask for a room at the Bull's Head Inn where they were supposed to leave their horse.

            "Well, 'ol Ben do look like 'e could use a bit o' a lie-down" said Crunther, the innkeeper at the Bull's Head in Aldeburgh. He took the reigns from Draco and led the horse to the stableyard. At his whistle, two stableboys hurried over to unsaddle the horse.

            "My wife is very tired," said Draco, "Have you rooms for us?"

            "Aye" said Crunther, looking appreciatively at Hermione. Even in her plainest dress, she was exceedingly beautiful. "Will it be just this night?"

            Draco and Hermione exchanged looks. "I can't really say" said Draco. "We're looking for someone here who might take us in."

            "Looking for someone? And who might he be?" asked Crunther, opening the door to the inn for them.

            "It's a 'she' actually," said Hermione. "Do you know a Mary Culdon"

            Crunther gave a start. "Mary Culdon? Her that was married to Peter Morwyn? What do ye be wantin' with Mother Mary Morwyn?"

            "Our business is our own." Draco replied, shortly. "Do you know her or not?"

            "Aye, I know her. But trust me, you won't be gettin' no shelter under her roof!"

            "What do you mean?" asked Hermione, curiously.

            Crunther lowered his voice. "Mother Morwyn or Mary Culdon as you know her, is _dead_! She were burnt at the stake three years ago for witchcraft!"

            Both Draco and Hermione paled. "She's _dead?" exclaimed Hermione._

            Crunther looked pleased to see the effect this piece of scandalous news had on the couple. "Ye'd better not be lettin' people know ye have business with Mother Morwyn. Or in a trice, the governors will have ye taken in for witchcraft too!"

            "W-Witchcraft?" said Hermione.

            Crunther nodded. "Aye, she seemed like a harmless old crone to me. A bit soft in t'head but everyone knew she had the Eye. She read palms and did the casting stones and all that on the sly. T'weren't a young maid or lad in town hadn't gone to old Mother Morwyn for some love divining. But three years ago, there was a bad crop, a really bad crop, followed by the fever, then bad cases of horse-palsy… so Lord Aldeburgh called in the Witch Hunters. They took Mother Morwyn, also her husband old Peter Morwyn. And Mother Goodwin, Mother Albright and Mother Crookwell and her husband as well. T'were a sad weekend for us all. So, I expect ye'd be takin' t'rooms for much longer?"

            Draco felt panic rise in him but controlled himself. He could tell Hermione was on the verge of a breakdown and he needed to get her into a room and calmed down before they could discuss where to go from here.

            "We'll take them for a week" said Draco, taking out his purse. Crunther nodded and opened a book of accounts. "Your lodging's on t'second floor. Ye pay half now and half at t'end. 'Ave a nice stay."

            Crunther watched as the good-looking young couple made their way up the stairs.

            "We have guests, George? Why are ye standin there all moon-faced?" said a voice at his side. It was his red-faced wife, bustling in from the kitchen.

            Crunther chuckled. "A pair of lovers. They be elopin', mark my words. They're both downright scared I can tell – the girl more so. The girl's dress is fine but the boy's though clean, t'isn't much to speak of.  Probably her father's got it in for t'poor lad."

            "How do ye know they be elopin?" asked his wife. "Your head is full of nonsense, old man."

            Crunther shrugged and went back to his books. "They had no luggage. Not a scrap more on them than the clothes on their backs. And they were a lookin' for Mother Morwyn, and the only people who used t'do that were lovers…"

            "Mother Morwyn?" Mrs Crunther crossed herself. "Bless us all. Did ye tell them what happened to that poor old crone?"

            "Aye, and downright disappointed they looked."

            Mrs Crunther shook her head. "I don't know what's becoming of the young'uns these days. But I only run an inn, and I question nothing. All right old man, stop yer dreamin' help me wit' t'ale in the barrels at the back."

********************************** 

            "Don't cry, Hermione" said Draco, putting his arms around his wife. "We'll think of something."

            "W-We'll be stuck here forever! There's no one here who can help us! H-How are we ever going to get the herbs on Samhain?"

            Draco racked his brains as Hermione tried to control her sobs.

            "Maybe we could ask your mother to gather them for us and send them over to Aldeburgh." Draco suggested.

            Hermione looked up abruptly. "Draco! We could ask Thomas!"

            Draco nodded. "Yes, I think we could. You see? I knew we'd think of something! Now stop crying."

            Hermione dried her eyes. "Will you write to him straight away?" she asked eagerly.

            Draco slapped his hand on his knee. "Damn, Thomas can't read! We'll have to ask someone else."

            "Mary Ludlow, of course" said Hermione, promptly. "But won't they ask all kinds of questions why we need such strange herbs to be collected on Samhain? You know how they feel about w-witchcraft around here."

            "Mary Ludlow won't sell us out" said Draco, kicking off his boots. "If they start probing and the Grangers' secret gets out, they're all done for."

            "You know about the secret?" Hermione was surprised.

            "Yes, your mother told me all about you, my little changeling. Didn't I always say at back at Hogwarts that there was something not quite right about you?"

            "I am _not a changeling!" Hermione blazed._

            Draco grinned and threw off his shirt. He leaned back into the soft sheets of the bed and pulled a half-undressed Hermione into his arms.

            "Whatever you say…rose girl." He said, and nuzzled her neck.

            "Draco, I hope you realize that _if the only reason I was thrown back into this life and no one noticed the difference was because I took the place of a changeling…then __you must have as well!"_

            Draco stopped nuzzling her for a second. "Super. We're both freaks."

            "No…we're not." Hermione tried to ignore Draco's exploratory lips and fingers as her mind worked harder than it had in months. "We _took their place. The two changelings who filled the places of the dead children of our families have returned to the fay…"_

Draco's exploratory fingers froze for a second. "Two changelings?" he said aloud. He had a vague memory of two shadowy figures he had seen on Litha…

"Yes…" continued Hermione, not noticing Draco's reaction. "I know Lady Granger's daughter died and was replaced by a changeling, but what about you? Are there Malfoys around …Oooh!"

            The "Oooh" was her response to Draco suddenly biting her shoulder.

            "Mmm…no, my ancestors came from France. It was only when my great grandfather Ladon Malfoy came over to England from Fair Paris in the 1890s did we Malfoys first have a presence in England."

            Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and snuggled into his chest. He drew her down into the soft bed. Both of them knew they were probably going to sleep right through the day and night into the next morning. They were bone tired and the shock of learning of Mary Culdon's death had made them even more weary.

            "Well, you must be wrong. Somehow, the same thing that happened to Lady Granger must have happened to one of the Malfoy women in England a long time ago. Maybe you were passing through or visiting or something.…"

            "Thomas said that word around the farm was that I was left there to work when I was four by my grandmother."

            "Your grandmother? Why didn't you tell me before?"

            "I only found out after I was forbidden to see you, and we haven't really had time to talk much since meeting up again…" Draco kissed the top of his wife's head.

            "Your grandmother…I wonder who she is…"

            "Don't think too hard about it Hermione" Draco said softly, "It's all I've been thinking about last week and it's driving me crazy."

            "It's like everytime we think we're going to piece the puzzle together…"

            "We find new pieces…Yes, I know. It's really much better not to think about it too hard you know."

             "Not think too hard about it? But I've never let a problem go before…"

            "Hermione Granger, Order-of-Swotting First Class…. Eeep!"

            Hermione found a tender place of Draco's to pinch.

            "It's Hermione _Malfoy__ now," she said, turning to kiss Draco deeply on the lips. "Don't you forget it."_

**Chapter 22/23: Aldeburgh**

            When they awoke the next morning, both felt incredibly refreshed.

            "Didn't anyone tell you that a lady does not stuff her face?" said Draco, watching in amusement as Hermione ate three eggs and four muffins in about two minutes.

            "Shuhub" Hermione said, through a mouthful of eggs.

            With some food in her, and away from the confines of Granger Mansion, she was feeling more and more like her old self. Ironically, that made her see Draco Malfoy more and more as she remembered him back in Hogwarts as well. The only difference was that this time, he wasn't taking every opportunity he could to make life hell for her. In fact, he was taking every opportunity to make her feel good- like ordering her a second-plate of breakfast after she had eaten the first one in about a minute.

            "You're not going to need a third plate of breakfast I hope" Draco said in alarm as Hermioen polished off her second plate almost as quickly as the first.

            "Novanksamvul" she said, and began to laugh.

            "Ew, could you do me a favour and swallow your food first? What's so funny anyway?"

            Hermione gulped down the mouthful she had been chewing.

            "R-Ron used to talk with his mouth full all the time…it drove me and Harry nuts! I never thought I'd one day do the same thing." Hermione's eyes were bright as she remembered her two best friends.

            Draco saw a misty, happy look appear on Hermione's face. _Geez__, _she really misses those two…what was it I used to call them? Twits? Morons?_ _Had I really been so petty? Anyway, she really missed Potty and Weasel.__

"You three were really great friends huh?"

            "Yeah, why?"

            "Well, I wasn't exactly part of the Wonder Club, you remember?"

            Hermione looked worried. "Oh…no, but things are different now, Draco. I-I-mean, we've worked out a lot of our differences, and er, we're _married_. Besides, there _isn't a Wonder Club anyway…we're friends with everyone. We'd even have been friends with you, if you'd let us."_

            "Let you? Why on earth wouldn't I let you?"

            Hermione wondered if the Thyme Eliminus had damaged Draco's memory so much already. "Y-You always hated us. Ron because he was poor…and me because I was a muggleborn…"

            Draco reddened. "Yeah. But I guess I had my reasons then, and well, things have sort of changed my mind about things."

            Hermione looked at her husband, her eyes full of pride. "I know - that's part of the reason I fell in love with you. Because you were big enough to change your mind."

            The couple grinned stupidly at each other.

            "Potty and Weasel are still going to kill me, you know" Draco said, taking his wife's hand as they rose from the table.

            "I know" said Hermione.

            "It doesn't bother you?" Draco said.

            "No, because they will probably die of shock the moment we tell them anyway."

            Draco laughed. "They can do anything to me they want. All I want is to take you back with me to the future where we can live in the lap of luxury …"

            "And I can learn to ride horses…"

            "Naturally. And I will be Lord of the Manor again…"

            "…and I'll use nice, clean soap to bathe with…"

            "Yeah… and I'll wear freshly laundered clothes every day…"

            "And we'll eat pumpkin pasties…"

            "And we can brush our teeth after that…"

            "And our beds won't have fleas…"

            "And most importantly, Hermione…we'll use toilets that flush."

            "Oh yes! Definitely."

            They walked into the sunshine of that early October day and began to get a feel of the town of Aldeburgh. It was very large, much larger than Mildenstowe, and looked quite prosperous, despite having had a spate of bad fortune three years ago.

            "Where shall we go now? We have three weeks to Samhain" said Hermione, as they passed through a street that reminded her strongly of Diagon Alley. In fact, all these streets reminded her of Diagon Alley – narrow, dark and bustling.

            "I thought we'd try and find out more about Mary Culdon and her husband. Also those four others who were burned as witches. I'd always thought that magic people couldn't really be burned at the stake."

            "You're thinking of Wendelin the Weird. She enjoyed being burnt at the stake so much that she allowed herself to be captured 14 times in various disguises, each time, she disapparated. But you're forgetting something Draco."

            "What?"

            "She had a wand and knew the spells."

            "So?"

            "How likely is it that Mary Culdon was a real witch with a wand? Sounds like she was just a common soothsayer."

            "Well, how do you know that?"

            Hermione sighed, "Because she obviously didn't go to Hogwarts, did she? Somewhere out there, in this time, is jolly old Hogwarts. But in these times, pureblood or muggleborn, you couldn't go to Magic School unless you had enough money for books and fees. The policy was only changed in the 1700s when the authorities realized that there was a dangerous sub-culture of bastardized magic developing outside the official schools. Doesn't anyone but me read _Hogwarts: A History?"_

            Draco was silent.

            Hermione linked her arm with his.

            "Knut for your thoughts?" she said, eventually.

            Draco turned round and met her gaze. She thought he looked very angry. "If this is what happens when you keep deserving people out of Hogwarts." he said bitterly "then it's absolutely rotten."


	24. Chapter 24: And Pale Was He

**Chapter 24: And Pale Was He**

"I need to send a letter to a friend of mine in Mildenstowe" Draco said, pushing the sealed envelope over the counter to Crunther.

            "Mary Ludlow? Ne'er heard o' her." said Crunther, reading the address. He shrugged, "The mail coach is leavin' tomorrow at six in t'mornin' I'll see yer letter gets on it. Takes a couple o' days, countin' stops, to get to Mildenstowe."

            "Thank ye"

            "And how's your lady this morning?"

            "She's…"

            "…very well, thank you Crunther" said Hermione, appearing behind Draco and smiling at the innkeeper.

            "G'mornin, Mistress Malfoy. Where're ye two off to t'day? 'Tis your last day here at these lodgings."

            "Actually, we were going to go up to the old Morwyn place."

            Crunther shook his head, "I tell ye there be nothing there. Ye are wastin' yer time. 'Tis best ye steer clear of that place, people say it's ill luck."

            "Mother Morwyn was a friend of my mother's," Hermione said quietly. "I promised her I'd stop by if I ever came through Aldeburgh."

            "Aye, well then ye be careful. I still say ye are wastin' yer time. 'Tisn't more than a burnt ruin that place. Much better for two young people to spend the time in the fields or by t'rivers. I could pack you a lunch."

            Draco and Hermione exchanged glances. "Why don't ye pack it for us anyway, Crunther?" said Draco. "We'd be very grateful."  
            "Surely. I'll just get Mother Crunther to get something together. Ye just wait here." He lumbered off to the kitchen and left Draco and Hermione alone.

            "Did you give him the letter yet?"

            "Yes. The mail coach leaves tomorrow. It makes several stops along the way but it will reach Mildenstowe in two days."

            Hermione nodded and squeezed Draco's arm. "I hope she gets it and nothing goes wrong."

            "Nothing more can go wrong" Draco said cheerfully. "I have a feeling we've been through the worst of it…think about it Hermione! In two weeks, we'll be _home_!"

            Hermione smiled, "I wonder if they missed us?"

            "Weasel's probably pining away for you. Didn't you two have a 'thing' back in the Sixth?"

            "We did not have a "thing". Anyway, that's all in the past…or the future…oh, whatever. And anyway, may I remind you, Mr Malfoy, that you are going to have to explain to the Zabinis this whole situation. Even if Blaise doesn't flip her wig over it, I'm sure Mr Zabini will have a lot to say about it."

            "That pompous toad doesn't scare me."

            "Draco, what are the consequences of breaking a wizard engagement? You never told me."

            "Oh! Well…"

            "Here ye are" said Crunther, emerging from the kitchen with a covered basket. "There's cheese and bread and a flagon of ale in there."

            "Thank you" said Draco, taking it from the innkeeper.

            "Take my advice and don't picnic up at the old Morwyn place. 'Tis a wretched ruin now…go to the stream or the fields."

            "Yes, thanks."

            Offering his arm to his wife and feeling her take it, Draco set off for the old Morwyn place. They had picked up enough information from the townsfolk to be pretty certain of its surroundings, both felt just the slightest bit nervous at what they would find there.

*******************************************

            Time and time again, on their many dates since the time he had given the brooch before the Wizengamot hearing, Ron had tried to broach the subject of Blaise's engagement to Draco. But Blaise had always managed to change the subject and cut him off. On this day, he was determined not to let her do so again. No, it was much too near Samhain for this kind of fuddling about.

            "_You've got to talk to her Ron" he heard Harry's voice echo in his memory. "_You guys are getting pretty serious…"__

            "Two weeks to Samhain" said Ron, as he and Blaise sat picnicking in one of the parks in Ottery St Catchpole. Near them, several wizard children were playing on toy brooms.

            "Please don't remind me" Blaise said, taking a bite out of a hard-boiled egg.

            "Aw Blaise, you can't keep telling yourself that Malfoy won't come back…the problem won't go away simply coz you want it to, you know."

            "What problem? Hey look at those kids messing around with the broom…" Blaise said, turning away.

            Ron reddened. "You know what problem. Y-Your engagement to Malfoy…and the wedding in December."

            "I'd rather not think about it" Blaise said, stubbornly.

            "You CAN'T not think about it! Samhain is in two weeks! Malfoy could be back anytime after that!"

            "I said I don't want to talk about it!" Blaise said, putting down her half-eaten egg and sniffing.

            "How can you live like this?! It's like you think the whole problem will disappear without you doing anything!"

            "Maybe it will!"

            "Grow up, Blaise…"

            "Grow up!? You're asking me to grow up? Who's the one who's going to be married by the end of the year? Who's the one going to be in charge of running estate accounts?..."

            "_Malfoy_ estate accounts! Come on Blaise, is that what you really want?"

            Blaise shook her head. "You know it's not, Ron. B-But I really don't want to think about it right now."

            "So you let your father do all the thinking for you! Why can't you just break the whole damn thing off?!"

            "I've already told you, Ron…I _can't!_"

            "N-Not even if I…if we…"

            "No!"

            Blaise began to cry in earnest. Ron felt his heart sink to his feet.

            "Don't cry" he said at last, putting his arm around Blaise. Blaise rubbed her eyes and sniffed.

            "You don't know how hard it is to defy your parents when you know they love you, and mean to do what they believe is right for you."

            "Yeah…I do know actually" said Ron, with a lopsided grin. "Mom wanted me to re-take my NEWTS after I got that awful result…but I refused. What's NEWTS got to do with being an ace Quidditch player anyway? Anyway, you knew that I had a huge row with her, and there were tears and emotional blackmail and all that…"

            Blaise nodded and put her head on Ron's shoulder. "Yes…it's like that but ten times worse."

            "If you don't want to talk about now, we won't." Ron conceded, reluctantly. "Though I feel terrible about leaving it hanging, I can't bear seeing you so upset. Here, have one of mum's chocolate chip cookies."

            "Ronald Weasley, you are the nicest wizard I know" said Blaise softly, as she munched on the cookie he offered her. "And I'm truly sorry I haven't the guts to deal with that problem right now."

            "When Malfoy's back and you're forced onto the arm of the pompous prat, I'm sure you'll get the nerve" said Ron.

            Blaise smiled. "We'll see. Maybe you're right. Perhaps Hermione will have taught Draco a lesson or two in humility."

            "If I know Hermione, she'll have had as little to do with Malfoy as possible. I'd be surprised if she hasn't killed him by now."

            Blaise looked shocked, "She'd do that?"

            "Naah, not literally. I mean, Hermione's pretty scary sometimes, when she gets it into her mind to do something, nothing in the world can stop her…but I don't think she'll kill Ferret Boy…worse luck for us." Ron chewed thoughtfully on his cookie. "Imzermyavlly"

            "What?" Blaise giggled. "Ron, you have the worst habit of talking with your mouth full."

            "I miss Hermione awfully" said Ron, swallowing. "You and her- you're so different it's almost funny."

            "Oh? In what way?"

            "Well, Hermione wouldn't care at all what her parents thought, I'm sure. She doesn't hold with all of that family honour stuff- s'far as I've known, she just does what she feels is right. Not that your way is bad, but she really doesn't understand all that stuff. And she's so smart and tough all the time, doesn't really need anyone…and you're so, er…sweet and soft, like a Floffle…"

            "A Floffle- you mean those magical furry creatures that live in dandelion buds?"

            "Yeah."

            "Hmm…a Floffle. No one's called me that before" Blaise put her arms around Ron. "I like it. But I can be tough too you know!"

            Ron smiled sadly, "If only."

            Blaise looked at Ron's comical, sad face. Thoughts of all the great times she'd had with Ron flashed through her mind- the musical box he'd given her, how he'd helped her out of that Wizengamot case, how he'd flown straight across to her all the way across the pitch after winning his match against the Chudley Cannons…He really was the nicest wizard she knew. "We'll see, Ron. We'll see."

************************************ 

            "Crunther wasn't joking" Draco muttered, as he kicked at a blacked pile of rock and ruin. "This place is a wreck."

            Hermione walked slowly around the perimeter of the burnt cottage. "I expected it to be like that. They always razed the houses of witches after they were burnt."

            "Well, we won't learn anything much" said Draco. "This place is a dump."

            Hermione was staring intently at the ground as she circled the place. Suddenly, she stopped and signaled for Draco to come over.

            "What is it?"

            "Look here…what can you see?"

            Draco looked at the ground. It was overgrown with weeds but struggling through the tangled mess of dandelions and cow grass were the very distinctive leaves of…

            "Herbs! This used to be a herb garden!"

            "I'll bet Mary Culdon used to keep a herb garden here and do some simple potion brewing."

            Hermione and Draco both fell to their knees, their fingers raking through the tangled weeds, searching for something.

            "Basil…Mint…those are the only two survived in these awful conditions…" said Draco, crushing the leaves in his hands and sniffing them.

            "No heather…"

"Or mullein…"

"Or patchouli or sage …" said Hermione gloomily.

"So that's what you hoped to find here." Draco straightened up and helped Hermione to stand.

"It was just a shot in the dark" said Hermione. "I'm not totally comfortable with us communicating with the Granger Estate again…I have a feeling something will go wrong."

Draco shook his head. "No…we're too near the end now. Everything that has gone wrong, _has_ gone wrong already."

"Knock on wood!" said Hermione, tapping on the trunk of a tree.

"Goodness, you _are superstitious!"_

"When in Rome…"

"It shouldn't be hard for Mary to get all those herbs for us on Samhain. I remember all of them in the garden when I worked there. Though it really was a pity that Mary Culdon couldn't help us after all."

"Let's get out of here" Hermione said, looking at the blackened ruins of the cottage and shivering.

Wordlessly, Draco took her hand and the two of them started walking across the field and back towards the main centre of Mildenstowe.

"Why don't we try that way for our picnic?" said Draco, suddenly breaking away from the path. "There does seem to be another path leading this way."

Hermione peered at the ground. Draco was right. The grass had been flattened along a narrow path leading off the main one. It was clearly a path, but seldom used.

"All right."

It was not long before they found themselves at the edge of a wood. The path seemed to lead inside but Hermione was reluctant to follow it in.

"Why don't we stop for lunch here? It's er…dark…in there."

"Ok." Draco didn't much like the look of the wood himself. "How about here?" Where the field met the wood was a soft bank of wild grass and flowers. Hermione sat down to show her approval and Draco followed her example.

"Do you know any other wizard rhymes for children?" asked Hermione casually, as she munched on a piece of cheese.

Draco rolled onto his back as he chewed a piece of straw – a habit he had picked up from the other boys on the Granger estate.

"Oh yes. Want to hear another?"

"Yes, please."

_"I heard a horseman_

_Ride over the hill;_

_The moon shone clear,_

_The night was still;_

_His helm was silver,_

_And pale was he;_

_And the horse he rode_

_Was of ivory."_

"Who was he?"

"Who?"

"The horseman in the rhyme."

Draco closed his eyes. "Funny question. I've never thought of that before."

Hermione rapidly committed the rhyme to memory.

"Another one."

"_Lady Rowan with berries in her hair…"_

There was a rustling behind them, and Draco and Hermione both froze in alarm.

"What was that!?"

"_Willow__ maid and Holly fair! Well met again, Draco and Hermione."  Spoke a voice from behind them. An old woman stood in the shadows at the edge of the forest._

"Who are you? And how do you know our names?" Draco tried to keep his voice steady but he knew that he sounded shrill.

"You're the old woman at the fair!" Hermione cried. "The ribbon lady!"

Slowly, the old woman moved out of the shadows. Draco could see that Hermione was right. Indeed, it was the old ribbon seller.

"Aye, and I see my ribbon is still in your hair – where it looks right fair!"

Hermione's hands automatically went up to touch Drac's gift in her hair and Draco found himself also staring at the ribbon. Memories of the day at the fair came rushing back to him.

"How do you know our names?" he asked, more calmly this time.

The old woman hobbled over to him and Draco had to fight back the urge to take a few steps back. She looked harmless enough, but there was an uncanny gleam in her eye.

"I would know you anywhere – my little young sapling" she went right up to him and Draco flinched as she touched his cheek with one bony finger. "Don't you remember your old grandmother?"

"You're his grandmother?" Hermione said curiously. "B-But how…"

"He knows me as such. I brought him up from a wee baby – after his mother left him for dead at the inn where she gave birth. A sweet, foreign lady…and her husband a fine, grand man. Both clearly wealthy beyond measure- but Death treats rich and poor alike. like the baby they left behind. I remember- the man's hair and skin was pale as the moon."

Draco's already pale face turned even whiter. Hermione couldn't help but glance at his white-blonde hair shining in the October sunlight.

"Why did they leave me behind?" he said, tensely.

"You were dead, or as good as dead. Your father rode away over the hill, and I could swear he and his wife vanished into the wind. I knew not their business…I was only the midwife to that unfortunate lady. When I came to wrap you in the shroud, lo! You were alive, and I knew it could not be by the grace of God for I had only moments before felt your heart stop beating. And I thought I heard laughter, and smelled strange smells and to my amazement I saw your hands had little shoots and leaves! _A changeling_! I thought, and would have hurled you into the fire right then had not something stopped me…"

"What stopped you?" whispered Hermione, slipping her hand into Draco's and drawing close to him.

"A midsummer's dream I had a year before I was called to your mother's bed" the old woman narrowed her eyes and looked from Hermione to Draco and back again. "It was a night of magik, and I dreamed that I should find a little boy to save, and save him I must, or great misfortune would befall me and a fair maid he was destined for. And I dreamed of your name lassie- _Hermione. And I dreamed of your name lad- __Draco."_

Hermione and Draco stood rooted to the spot, their eyes wide with surprise.

"So you know our names" said Draco. "Now tell us yours."

The old woman smiled. "I have heard from the townsfolk that the two of you have been searching for my old friend Mary Culdon, bless her soul. I am glad I have found you because I know what you need and will help you…You see, I am Ruth Brenthurst."

 "I thought so." Hermione said softly.

Draco looked confused "Do you know this lady?" he said, turning to his wife.

Hermione nodded "Eighteen years ago, on Feill-Sheathain… Mary Ludlow, Mary Culdon and Ruth Brenthurst saw the fay, but Hester Abagnale…."

"…could not. Hester always was a stupid girl." chuckled the old woman. "Now, why don't we all sit down and share your picnic while you tell old Ruth Brenthurst what in the blessed world you two are doing in Aldeburgh."


	25. Chapter 25: Trouble Brewin'

**Chapter 25: Trouble Brewin'**

"I wish I had some word from home."

"You mean the future?"

"No…I mean from the Granger estate" said Hermione, as she sat on a rough stool near where Draco was splitting logs for Ruth Brenthurst's fire. His face bore a look of intense concentration and his shirt was stained with sweat. She watched admiringly each of Draco's powerful swings of the axe. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

"You can't be serious." Draco said, pausing between swings to look incredulously at her. "What do you care what's going on there?"

"I don't _care. I was just wondering that's all," Hermione said, looking down._

"You _do care" said Draco, hefting the axe up again. "Can't blame you really. That Lady Katherine was rather nice. Can't say the same for Lord Granger."_

"He did what he thought was best for me" Hermione said. "I see that now, when I don't have to actually live through it. Anyway, I wonder how Lord Granger and Baron Burnel took the news."

"Can't have been that bad, seeing as no one came for our lives."

"Yes, you're right." Hermione said, her eyes glued to the muscles on Draco's arms. "Not that they'd be able to find us anyway, now we're staying in the forest with Ruth."

"Ladies do not stare at peasant boys in that naughty manner."

Hermione blushed. "I'm _not a lady anymore. I'm just a peasant now. And besides, why can't I stare at you? I'm your __wife."_

"Keep reminding me, I still can't believe I married the school swot. Lucius always told me that Malfoys married Hogwarts Graduation Ball Queens."

"Oh? Would you have preferred to marry Parvati Patil?"

"Hmm…come to think of it...would that mean I get her sister too?" Draco ducked as Hermione flung a log at his head.

"I am armed and dangerous!" Draco lifted the axe in mock threat.

"Go on, attack the muggleborn why don't you?" Hermione said, giggling.

Draco dropped the axe and looked glum. "Four years ago you would have flipped out and screamed for Potty to save you. Where's the fun now, I ask you?"

"This is the fun now" Hermione said, rising and putting her arms around Draco. She pressed herself against him.

"Go on" grinned Draco.

Hermione ran her hands down his back kissed him hard.

"Ok, that's quite fun I must say" said Draco, breathing heavily.

"Can't leave you two alone for a minute!"

Hermione and Draco shot apart, red-faced, as Ruth Brenthurst ambled up to them, a basket of root vegetables on one arm.

"Start peelin' these now, Hermione. Or we won't get no supper!" the old woman had a twinkle in her eye.

Hermione took the basket from Ruth and ran into the house.

Ruth chuckled as she watched her go. "And how's my firewood, Draco? Since my old man died I haven't had a good supply in winter for many a year."

"Nearly done" said Draco, picking the axe up.

"I have news for you," Ruth said, quietly. "But you are not to tell that lovely wife of yours."

"What?" Draco asked, worried.

"They be sayin' in t'town there's trouble up at Mildenstowe. The Baron didn't take it too well, if you take my meanin'"

"Trouble? Will we not get our herbs?"

"Ah, no…tain't that. Mary's on it already. 'Tis to do with the lands and the dowry. The Grangers have lost nearly all of it to t'Baron as Hermione's broken dowry and there's trouble brewin' o'er t' division o'such. But don' you be tellin' Hermione. She's a good lass and if what you say is true, in a few days after Samhain, you two will return to where you came from and all will be well. What is meant to be is meant to be."

Draco turned to look at Ruth Brenthurst's cottage. On the doorstep Hermione sat peeling potatoes, a coarse apron around her waist, and a half-peeled bowl of potatoes beside her. She looked up from her peeling and smiled at Draco. He smiled back.

"I won't tell her" he said to Ruth. "I don't want to worry her anymore."

Ruth Brenthurst nodded. "That's what husbands should do. Look after your wife well, young man."

****************************** 

            "Katherine, please speak to me."

            Lord Granger took his wife's hand in his own. His wife was pale and thin, her spirit nearly broken. She hadn't spoken to him for three days.

            "I have let as many of the servants go as I can without interrupting the running of this estate. This is as you instructed. Won't you speak to me now that I have done as you wish?"

            Lady Katherine Granger turned and stared at her husband. For a moment, Lord Granger was reminded of his last interview with his daughter- when Hermione had seemed so frail and insubstantial that if he blinked, she might vanish. And indeed, hadn't the girl really vanished after all? All this was like some terrible nightmare, and he wasn't going to lose his wife to cruel fate as well. Lord Granger put his arms around his wife and embraced her.

            "Please, _please listen to reason Katherine. You are acting irrationally. There is no reason for us to leave this place- although I have asked the servants to go, on your wish, I simply cannot abide the thought of us leaving this place ourselves. It is our home- where else would we go?"_

            Lady Katherine Granger continued staring at her husband. She opened her mouth as if to speak but no words came out and her face twitched with effort.

            "What is it? Do you speak to me at last? Speak, then, my love."

            Lady Katherine Granger managed a small sound in her throat which eventually formed itself into words. "We must _all_ leave this place."

            Lord Granger frowned in frustration. That was what his wife had been insisting on for the last week since Baron Burnel had ridden out of their front gates in a towering rage.

            "Katherine, can you bear to leave our home? Our coat of arms adorns every room, portraits of our forefathers line the walls, our most precious things are here. What is this wild fancy of yours that we must leave this place?"

            But Lady Granger had lapsed back into silence. The stress of the past two weeks had worn her down and Lord Granger feared for her health.

            "Drink this." he handed a cup to his wife. "It is a feverfew posset from our herb garden and it will restore you slightly."

            Obediently, Lady Granger drained the cup, and breathed in deeply the smell of the boiled herb. There was a knock at the door.

            "Enter"

            Mary Ludlow curtseyed her way into the room. She handed over a letter sealed with an all-too-familiar seal. Lord Granger took the letter from Mary and looked at it with distaste. "What does that avaricious man want now? He knows we have agreed to all his terms." He tore open the letter and scanned it quickly.

            Mary Ludlow noticed a flicker of worry cross her master's face. Lord Granger crushed the letter in frustration.

            "Coming back! _Coming back!_ He is coming back here on the third of November with an envoy from the court! I am to prepare all my deeds by then…can you believe his haste in this matter- we had agreed six months grace time! No doubt that is partly due to his utter humiliation at the hands of that wretched girl, for hear what else he demands of us…"

            "It is as I feared." said Lady Granger quietly, looking sadly at the crushed letter on the table in front of her. "There is something unwell about his early return."

            "Unwell?" From where she was watching, Mary Ludlow wrung her hands and exclaimed. "M'Lady…you do not think t'baron will have us harmed? We have done nothing wrong by him, the Law will protect us!"

            "The Law was written by people like Baron Burnel" said Lord Granger, frowning- only then remembering that Mary was in the room.

"Don't go frightening the servants, Katherine. You see how Mary quakes…Mary, you must forget this nonsense. The Granger house has means to protect itself, her ladyship has lately taken ill and it has clearly affected her mind. Leave us."

            "Gareth…it is not my mind…"

            "Hush!"

            Mary looked from her master to her mistress and curtseyed, leaving the reluctantly. Outside the door, Mary found her feet glued to the spot. What exactly was in that letter? And what else had Burnel demanded of the Grangers? Mary burned with curiousity. She could not leave without knowing…quietly, she bent her ear to the door…

            Back in the room Lord Granger carefully pressed out the creases in the parchment and read it again. He took his wife's cool hands in his own and Lady Granger mustered the strength to squeeze her husband's hands slightly.

            "Katherine…before I was interrupted by Mary, there was something else in the letter I wanted to tell you about."

            Lady Granger raised her eyes to his. "What is it Gareth?"

            Lord Granger sighed, his eyes clouded over with worry, "The envoy from the crown wishes to have evidence of this marriage- that it was their own free will and not some scheming on our part to avoid the marriage with Burnel…"

            "There is the church register, and Father Lorenzo's word…"

            "Read it Katherine." Lord Granger pushed the letter to her. As she read, Lady Granger began to feel faint.

            "W-We can't. Gareth… We can't do what they ask…it is a trap!"

            "Perhaps not…"

            "Oh you _know it is!" Lady Granger's shoulders began to shake. "Oh what should we do? I have never heard of a church register not being proof enough…oh Gareth, do not ask me to do it!"_

            Lord Granger squeezed his wife's hands so hard in his she let out a cry of pain. "Come to your senses, Katherine! If that wretched girl does not come on that day, it will be the worst for us! Do you know the consequences of defying an order from the King?"

            "But it is a _trap_! Never have I heard of the register being not enough…you _know_ these men have something foul planned for all of us…what it is I dare not imagine! I won't do it! I won't do it!" Lady Granger began to cry.

            "We have four days, Katherine. If you do not tell me where she is, I'm afraid I shall have to find her by force. I do not think she can be far from here…You can either communicate these events to her nicely or I will have that girl bound and dragged here by force."

            Lady Granger pulled her hands away from her husband and began to weep into them.

            "We do not have a choice, Katherine. It is not that I want to harm our…our daughter…but…"

            "Yes! How kind of you to remember that she is our _daughter…_ and you would have our own _daughter_ put into this trouble!"

            Lord Granger resisted an urge to leave the room. This was an important matter and he had to make his wife see sense.

            "You put us all at risk by protecting her thus. Perhaps it is not a trap. Burnel sayds the envoy wants testimony before he seals the deeds…"

            "Testimony! He doesn't want _testimony, Gareth! We are happy to give him our lands…think…what is it that man could _possibly_ want that isn't his already?"_

            "I do not know" Lord Granger said, not meeting his wife's eyes.

            "Yes you do! And you would make me the one to hand them to him…"

            "I have already put to you your choices. Tell me within an hour which you have chosen, or I will send horsemen out to start the search…" Lord Granger got up from his chair and turned towards the door.

            "Wait."

            He turned back to his wife, and waited for her to speak. Lord Granger stood tensely. His wife had obviously decided to offer further information and he didn't want to do anything that might change her mind.

            "I will tell you if you promise not to search for her till after Samhain…"

            "Samhain! That is only two days before the envoy arrives!

            "Please Gareth…I promise you, Mary will let you know where she is then and you will be able to fetch her in a day."

            "I will ask Mary myself if you refuse to tell me sooner!" Lord Granger made to go out of the room but his wife sprang from her chair and barred his way.

            "If you do not do as I ask …I …" her voice took on a desperate edge "…I will h-harm the child within me!"

            Lord Granger paled. "What devilry is this you speak of? You dare threaten me with such evil plans! First you trick me and shame my house, then you speak such unholy words!"

            "I have nothing more to lose!" Lady Granger said quietly. "Eighteen years ago I lost it all…Ever since then I have only tried to build everything back up, but if I have to let it all go again…I will. And I will start with your second child."

            "I cannot bear to speak to you further" said her husband in disgust. "You shall have the time you desire, but if you do not deliver that cursed girl as promised, I will spare no effort in bringing her back here. And if I cannot find her in time, then you can rest assured that it will be the very, _very worst for all of us."_

            Lord Granger left the room and Lady Granger collapsed in the chair by the table, her hand on her stomach, silently begging God to forgive her un-Christian threats.

She did not cry. She did not move. 

She was beyond all that…all that she had to do now, was wait till after Samhain. Mary would get those herbs Hermione had written for to her …and her daughter must have some special use for them. Giving her that time would be the least she could do.

            Then, she would tell her husband where Hermione and Draco were hiding. This was the very last thing she would do for her daughter. It had torn her and her husband apart, but somehow, Lady Granger felt that it might be the most important thing she had ever done in her whole life.

            All she had to do for the next few days was wait, as time marched heavily by.

As Lady Granger sat in the lowering dusk, the outline of the furniture in the room gradually dimmed, and the smell of late-summer roses from the garden wafted in through the open windows. 

********************************** 

            "'Tis better than the last time at least!" said Ruth Brenthurst, cheerfully. "Wouldn't you say, Draco?"

            Draco gagged down another mouthful of soup prepared by Hermione.

            "Ugh…I mean…Er, yes."

            "We'll make a cook out of you yet, my good lass."

            Hermione coloured and forced herself to take another mouthful of her vegetable soup. She had been a reasonable cook back in the future with her mother's wonderful electric oven and various German cooking gadgets, but having to cook here was a whole different affair altogether. Not only was the food difficult to prepare, the herbs available for cooking were scarce and expensive.

            There came a hoot from outside and Draco and Hermione both jumped in their seats, exchanging glances.

            "'Tis only an owl" said Ruth calmly. "Do not be afrightened."

            Draco found himself holding his breath. At any minute, he expected his eagle-owl to swoop in and drop the day's mail on his lap. He glanced across at Hermione and saw that she too was sitting tensely. There came another hoot.

            A minute passed.

            "Why so quiet?" asked Ruth, finishing her supper.

            Draco realized that it had been a false alarm. Any messenger owl would have delivered its mail by now.

            "Can't blame you for being afraid o'owls" said Ruth, clearing the dishes from the table. "Me parents were terrified of them. There was some trouble back when I was a young lass. We had a plague'o them about the house once, and my father shot one and was attacked by a few. Sometimes they go a little crazy like that."

            "How old were you?" asked Hermione.

            "Let me see…I must'a bin' ten…or eleven. Never had not further trouble with the birds after that. 'Twas right strange."

            "They never came back?" Draco asked.

            "No, bless you lad. They didn't. I haven't thought about that for years."

            Draco stood from the table and held his hand out to Hermione.

            "Let's go for a walk."

            Hermione nodded and Ruth waved to them to go ahead. Draco and Hermione slipped out of the cottage and made their way through the woods down paths with which they were becoming increasingly familiar.

            "You were right" said Draco, "She probably is magic, but didn't go to Hogwarts."

            "Neither did Mary Ludlow or Mary Culdon. Mary Ludlow told me they once saw the Fay in Flinders Wood on Midsummer's Eve when they were girls. There was a fourth lady with them, Hester Abagnale, but she couldn't see the fay."

            "I remember you telling me that" Draco said, as he guided Hermione down the moonlit paths of the forest. "When we were weaving the chaplets in Flinders Wood."

            "This place reminds me of Flinders Wood" said Hermione, looking around her. "It has that same secretive quality. Do you think there are fay here?"

            "I don't know." Draco said shortly, cursing the fay for their broken promise to him. "Let's not talk about that."

            "If I close my eyes, I can almost believe we're there again" Hermione said, stopping and closing her eyes. "It smells the same, it sounds the same, it feels the same. When I get back to the future, I shall go to the woods and close my eyes, and I shall always feel like I am back in Flinders Wood."

            Draco watched as Hermione swayed slightly, her eyes still closed. "Maybe one day you'll forget all this and it will be like a dream."

            "Yesterday, today, tomorrow…who is to say that in time's unending march, this moment too isn't a dream? Maybe we are standing here forever, and our other selves move on…maybe each moment is forever…"

            Draco put his arms around his wife and drew her too him. "If there is a time I do not want to forget, it would be now. So if this moment be a dream, do not wake me. I feel that if I were to understand, I would awake from this moment."

            Hermione rested her head on Draco's shoulder. "I want to go back, though."

            "So do I."

            "You smell like woodchips."

            "And you smell like the smoke from the cooking-hearth."

            Draco kissed Hermione tenderly and she gave a little sigh.

            "When we go back, maybe we will understand." she said, unlacing the front of his shirt. As the rough white cotton slid down his muscular shoulders, Draco started untying the ribbon at the back of her dress.

            They knew Time owed them nothing. In the balanced chaos of luck and misfortune, it was easier to forget its rough ebb simply by living in the intense happiness of the present. That was why later, in the quiet of the wood, time slipped by completely unnoticed as two dreamers slept entwined in each other.


	26. Chapter 26: 'Tis For The Best

**Chapter 26: 'Tis For The Best**

  


  


****"I will _not_ let the two of you out this night" Ruth Brenthurst exclaimed, her hands on her hips. She had placed her not inconsiderable bulk in front of the door of the cottage. "I may accept some of the fancy tales you've bin a'tellin me about potions and time and all such but you are _not_ goin' out there on Samhain night!"

In her own way, Ruth was every bit as terrifying as Professor McGonagall could be when scolding first-year pranksters in Hogwarts.

"But…" said Draco.

"NO BUTS! There be ghoulies and beasties out there this night and Lord help me if I let the two of you out there."

Hermione put her hand on Draco's arm, and Draco lapsed into sulky silence.

"All right, Ruth. We won't go out tonight" Hermione said soothingly. "We'll go to sleep in front of the fire, won't we, Draco?"

Draco made a non-committal grunt.

"Aye, listen to your wife. The girl's got good sense. You two lie down here for the night, like good children."

"_Children_…!"sputtered Draco.

"Yes, Ruth" Hermione said, staring at Draco quellingly. "You go ahead to bed."

"Promise me, honour bright, you won't go out!"

"We promise." Hermione said, soothingly.

"And you especially, lad!"

"I promise" Draco said through clenched teeth.

After Ruth Brenthurst retired for the night, Hermione sat herself down in front of the fireplace and yawned.

Draco paced around the tiny room, itching with resentment. "Children! She called us _children_! Samhain is nothing to be afraid of! We are magic…we are quite capable of protecting ourselves!"

"Yes, but we don't have wands" said Hermione sleepily.

"Ghoulies and beasties indeed! I've seen worse things in Hagrid's back yard!"

"Will you stop pacing around? It's really distracting. Come here and rest" Hermione said, pulling at Draco's hand. He sat down beside her heavily and frowned.

"Grouchy" she said and rested her head on his shoulders. The flames of the fire glinted against her chestnut hair and for a moment, Draco almost thought her hair looked like it was on fire. He kissed her hair and relaxed.

"I'm just worried Mary Ludlow won't come through with the herbs."

"Yes, I know you are, but there's nothing we can do about it. Going outside doesn't help in the slightest."

"I needed to get some fresh air. Get the worry out of my head."

Hermione snuggled against Draco. "What's the worst that could happen? If Mary doesn't come through, we'll just have to grow our own herb garden here next year and harvest the herbs ourselves. Is another year here so bad?"

"Hmm" Draco said, "Let me see…we have no piped water, no sewage, no salt for our food, no clean clothes, no books, music or games, no real bed…on the other hand, we have lots of fleas, lots of bugs, lots of smells, lots of back-breaking labour…I guess you're right. It's not so bad after all."

"Oh don't be so silly!" Hermione laughed at Draco's outraged expression. "But don't worry, I have a feeling Mary will get the herbs. And my hunches do tend to prove right."

"We'll see if she turns up with them tomorrow." Draco said. "I don't like trusting hunches. They are too unpredictable."

"She'll turn up" Hermione said sleepily, drowsing in Draco's arms.

"Are you sure?" Draco said, his eyes closing as well.

"Stop worrying."

  


************************************ 

  


****As it turned out, Hermione was right. 

Fed up with the boy's nervousness and inability to concentrate on anything, Ruth Brenthurst had sent Draco off on an errand to a neighbouring farm in the late afternoon.

Ruth and Hermione sat on the door step together, both glad to be free of Draco's fretting for a little while.

"Mary Ludlow is the most responsible person I ever did know" said Ruth. "She was the one who always looked out for us three others when we were girls. Was a winter Hester Abagnale slipped through t'ice and 'twas Mary hung on to her while we ran for help. Mary's hands were blue and black by the time we took her and Hester out of the water, but she never did let go o'her. Hester had a hard winter, but she pulled through, and since then, we always knew Mary woudn't let go o'anything."

"Shw was a very good nursemaid" Hermione offered. "At least for the time I knew her."

"Aye, she would've bin" Ruth nodded, "But o'course if what you telled me that day with your husband were true, you wouldn't have known Mary till last May, weren't it?"

Hermione nodded. "You believe us then, Ruth?"

"I neither believe nor disbelieve you. We'll see what happens when Mary brings those herbs to you and you make that philtrum o'yours. I knowed you two need shelter, and you need quiet, and Ruth Brenthurst was never one to turn such away."

Hermione smiled at the old woman. "Ruth, I will never forget your kindness to us."

There came a rustling from the path that led through the wood.

"Draco?" called Hermione.

"Mary Ludlow! On my life, I never did think we'd meet again!" Ruth had scrambled to her feet and was rapidly making her way over to where her old friend stood, basket on one arm.

"Mary!" cried Hermione, jumping to her feet and running to her old nursemaid, but she stopped just before she embraced the old lady, noticing the frightened look on Mary's face.

Ruth noticed it too, for she frowned and stood back, "What's the matter, sister? T'isn't bad news I hope?"

Mary shook her head and slowly put her arms around Hermione and kissed her on both cheeks, doing the same for Ruth.

"Why don't you come in for something t'eat. It must a'bin hard ridin to Aldeburgh through the night."

"Mary, what's wrong, why won't you speak?" asked Hermione, worriedly.

At Hermione's pleading tone, Mary found her tongue at last, "Oh M'Lady...I mustn't tarry here longer! The horsemen are but a few hours behind me!"

"Horsemen?" said Ruth and Hermione together, in surprise.

"Aye. Oh Ruth, sister, be warned...and M'Lady...your father's men are ridin' hard after me! You must leave this place or..." Mary choked.

"Or what?" breathed Hermione, her eyes large with alarm. It seemed Draco and her had finally run out of good luck. Their worst fears had come true- the Baron and Lord Granger had decided to chase after them.

"Or your father's horsemen will take you back for questioning! There is an envoy from the crown come to question you about the lands..."

"Is that all?" asked Ruth, "Why then our Hermione need fear nothing! She is proper wed to t'lad, nothing can undo such a union."

But Hermione found little comfort in Ruth's words. She paled. "There is something more behind this that you are not telling me, Mary!" she said, taking her old nursemaid by the shoulders and staring deep into her eyes. "What is it?"

Mary licked her lips nervously. "I listened at the door when the letter from t'Baron came. I thought it was nought but a quarrel over the land and such, you know your father has to give up three fourths of the land as your broken dowry, do you?"

Hermione was shocked, but before she could say anything, Mary continued...

"...but it were more than that. Her Ladyship, your mother, had a notion the Baron were after more than t'land. Should you go back...should you and Draco go back..."

"They would not dare!" Ruth burst out. "And they will have no chance! Hermione and Draco are not going back!"

"What will happen if I do not go back?" Hermione asked, her heart beating so fast she thought she was going to have a heart attack.

Mary and Ruth exchanged glances.

"T'would be defiance to the King- by yourself and your house." Mary said quietly. "But I bear strict instructions from your mother that you are to flee this place at once. Please, it was all your mother could do to hold your father back till after Samhain. Things are most unhappy between them over you, your mother would have it that you escape, she is willing to bear the consequences, but your father's horsemen are right behind me. Even as we speak, they draw near. Listen to your mother, Hermione, she has given up enough for you, do this last thing for her."

Ruth looked carefully at Hermione. The girl's expression was inscrutable.

"Tell me, Ruth, Mary, for I have no knowledge of this matter, what would happen if my parents were found guilty of defiance to the King?"

Both women remained silent.

Hermione repeated her question but to no effect.

Finally, Mary handed her basket over to Hermione. "Take this child. I know not why you want it, but in your letter you said your life depended on it. I have gathered it as best as I could according to your instructions. Flee."

Hermione knew she was holding the basket Mary had given her but it had no weight in her hands. Stupidly, she stared at it, then at the two women. She nodded.

"Yes...thank you, Mary. Thank you, I understand."

"Child, will you flee? You may have my horse, I left him at the edge of the wood- I can get another from The Bull's Head." Mary urged her mistress.

"Thank you. I will need an hour before I leave...after all, we must wait for Draco to return. He should be on his way now."

"Won't you come in and wait, Mary?" said Ruth.

"NO!" said Hermione. "I mean, Ruth, you should take Mary to the Bull's Head and see to it she is proper rested and has her another horse. I do not want her meeting my father's horsemen on the way. She would be in deep trouble."

Ruth looked doubtful. "And leave you here alone lass, in this dreadful hour?"

Hermione waved her hand casually, "Oh Ruth! You have left me here alone many a-time before by myself. What have you to fear? And besides, Draco will be here any moment soon."

"Will ye be gone when I return?" asked Ruth, a little sadly.

Hermione nodded. "We must, mustn't we?"

"'Tis for the best," said Mary, "'Tis what your mother would have wanted, she loves you dearly and has given up family and honour for your sake. Do not tarry long. Leave within the hour!"

"Family and honour..." said Hermione, letting the old lady embrace her.

She hugged the old lady. "How sad that we must part again,Mary, and I must tell you once more how much I will miss you. May you have a safe path back to Aldeburgh."

Tears trickled down Mary's cheeks as she hugged Hermione.

Then Hermione put her arms around Ruth. "You have been very kind to us. Draco and I owe you sincere thanks and gratitude."

"Draco was with me as a young'un. I wanted nought but the best for him, and if he took you to wife, then you are a part of him and I would've laid down my life for you as well as him." Ruth said, her voice sounding strained. "What strange times we live in! I do not understand it at all, why life should treat us such- us who have nought but the quietest spirits and lowliest desires!"

Mary Ludlow held on to her friend's hand.

"Farewell, Hermione. And tell Draco we send him our love. Wherever you two go, our blessing goes with you."

"Tell my mother and father I love them. Especially my mother, thank her for all she has done for Draco and I."

"Slow partings are more painful" said Ruth, turning her friend towards the path that led through the wood. "Better a quick farewell and an eternal blessing, than tears and lingering regret."

As Hermione watched the two ladies disappear from view, many things ran through her mind. She saw Draco's face, pale and handsome, smiling at her. She saw Ron and Harry, laughing. She saw Hogwarts as if from a great distance, then closer, then she was running in the hallways towards Transfiguration class. She saw her future parents, in their Opel Vectra, driving by and waving at her. She was her wedding day and the smelt the roses in the Church. But the image that returned most often, was that of Lady Katherine Granger and the unborn child in her womb.

Lady Katherine and the future of the Granger line.

Draco 

Lady Katherine

Draco

Lady Katherine

  


  


***************************************** 

  


"Hermione?"

Draco carried the hammer Ruth had asked him to collect in one hand, and a late-Summer rose in another. He had spotted it when on his way back from the farm and picked it for his wife.

The door to the cottage was closed and everything looked peaceful. A comforting spire of smoke rose from the chimney to the chill blue sky.

He wondered if Mary Ludlow had delivered the herbs yet. Today was November 1st, he had already mentally calculated that if she rode off from Mildenstowe at midnight the day before, she would reach Aldeburgh around the late afternoon. He knew that Ruth had only sent him off on the errand because his irritability and nervousness was driving them all crazy, and strangely, the walk had done wonders to calm his nerves. So what if Mary hadn't managed to collect the herbs? Hermione was right- they could live out here, with with Ruth or he could build another cottage for them or something- and they could grow their own herb garden. Ruth kept poultry and wove ribbons, Hermione could help, and they would survive for another year easily.

"I'm back!" he called cheerily, pushing the door open and walking into the cottage. "Has Mary turned up yet?"

Hermione turned round from the stove to face him. Her shoulders were tense. She gave the smallest shake of her head and Draco pulled a face.

"Oh well, she's bound to be along soon...Cooking again?" he asked, teasingly reminding her of her dismal attempts over the last few weeks. "What is it tonight? Vegetable mush again by the smell of it!" The brew had a very familiar smell.

Hermione visibly relaxed and moved so that she stood with her back to the cooking hearth.

"Yes, it's... soup ...for tonight that Ruth left me to watch...What's in your hand?" she asked, changing the topic.

Draco smiled. "Three guesses."

"The hammer Ruth asked for."

Draco shook his head and pointed to the table with his free hand. "No, I've put it down over there."

"Root vegetables."

Draco grinned. "Oh come on, Hermione. Don't make such boring guesses. Has a month here turned you into a housewife? Because back at Malfoy Manor, you'll be lady of the manor and never have to step into kitchen again unless it's because we're fooling around there when the house-elves aren't looking! Make a good guess."

Hermione smiled. "Okay... _Hogwarts: A History_, First Edition, printed in 1879 by Stainwell and Stainwell."

Draco's slapped his head in mock-horror. "No, Miss Granger...nothing like that at all!" Beaming, he held out the rose to Hermione.

"Where did you find it?" Hermione said, taking it from him and breathing in it's lovely scent.

"It's a gardener's boy's secret." Draco grinned. "You'd better look after it, this was the last one on the bush, the rest had decided that Summer was over."

He sat down and watched appreciatively as Hermione stuck the rose into her hair.

Something was odd about the place, but he couldn't figure out what. Was it the smell? No, it was too quiet.

"Where's Ruth?" he asked, suddenly realising the old lady was no where to be seen.

"After you left, she remembered she needed to go over to the Johnson's about those eggs she promised. She'll be back soon" Hermione said, sitting down next to Draco.

"How soon?" said Draco, smirking, "I still have lots of nervous energy that I need to work off."

Hermione blushed. "I think we have a good hour" she said, starting to kiss Draco hard. "I miss my gardener's boy." 

Draco gathered her into his arms. "This is your last chance, M'Lady. I intend to tender my resignation tomorrow, and apply for the post of Head of Malfoy Manor again."

"But what about my roses?" Hermione said softly, letting Draco's hands touch her in places that made her shiver.

"There are plenty in Malfoy Manor's hot houses" said Draco. "You have never seen them, but you will very soon."

"Will I?" said Hermione, clutching onto Draco so hard he was surprised. "You promise?"

"I promise" said Draco, "Of course! We're married now, I'm going to take you back with me, my young bride, and show you all of Malfoy Manor and I don't care what anyone says...on one condition."

"What?"

"Don't cook vegetable soup for me ever again."

Afterwards, Draco was dimly aware that they should get up and get dressed before Ruth came home, but this was his favourite time- just holding Hermione after they had made love. Whenever he was scared of the future, or worried about the consequences of breaking off his engagement, in these few moments he was able to remind himself that it was all worth while. And besides, this particular love-making session with Hermione had taken his breath away, there was an edge of urgency and need about her that had completely overwhelmed him.

"Where are you going?" he murmured, eyes half closed as Hermione got off the straw pallet beside him. He could still smell the rose in her hair. "Should we get up?"

"Hush," she said, "Rest just one more minute, I've only gone to get a sip of water."

Draco drowsed lazily on the bed, his eyes half closed. He should get up soon, but secretly, he harboured thoughts of one more little session before Ruth came home.All around him was that familiar smell he smelt when he first came in, vegetable soup? Hmm...maybe, but not really. Where had he smelt it before?

He felt Hermione sit down next to him and he reached out to put an arm around her waist...

"Mmm," he said, "Would you say we have at least a half hour more?"

Hermione bent to kiss him. "Draco, look at me" she said.

Surprised, Draco opened his eyes and saw Hermione staring down at him.

"I love you" she said. "No matter what happens, never forget that I married you because I love you."

Draco grinned. "Hey, what's this all about?"

"Do you trust me?" she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please say you do."

Draco got up on one elbow. "What's this all about Hermione? Of course I trust you. What is it?" He frowned.

"I can't tell you right now" she said, trying desperately not to cry. "But I'll tell you as soon as I can, I promise."

"What is the matter with you?" Draco sat bolt upright. Hermione's jaw was set, and though he noticed her eyes were bright with tears, she did not cry. "Why can't you tell me now?"

"I have something I need to do, but I cannot let you come with me. Wait for me, I won't be long." she said, moving away from him. Something in her manner scared him beyond words. 

Draco tried to scramble to his feet. "By the gods, Hermione...How long can this thing..."

Hermione flung something hot and wet on him from a cup she had held behind her back. Draco's eyes widened in shock - "What the .."

  


_Slow partings are more painful_

_Better a quick farewell _

_and an eternal blessing_

_than tears _

_and lingering regret_


	27. Chapter 27: Why Should I Believe You

**Chapter 27: Why Should I Believe You?**

  


  


Draco stirred in his sleep. He felt like he had been asleep for a long, long time...But it had not been a peaceful sleep- there had been many dreams and he didn't feel rested.

With his eyes still closed, the first thing he was aware of was that it was very quiet. The next thing he noticed was the unfamiliar smell of soap and clean linen.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

From where he lay, he could see a white plaster ceiling, and a beautiful venetian glass lamp hanging from it in the centre of the room. The ceiling looked unnatural to him – for months he had not seen anything so white, and smooth, and so perfect. The venetian glass lamp looked more familiar, it was ornate, edged in gold, and reminded him of a time long ago...

He sat up in the bed.

Everything looked strange and foreign to his eyes. The lines of the room were too straight, the furniture too shiny and new, and the smell too clean to be natural. On the bedstand next to him stood a silver picture frame, and from within it, a blonde man and woman smiled out at him. His parents.

This was Malfoy Mansion. He was home at last.

Almost afraid that it was some kind of dream, Draco climbed out of the bed. He heard a clock chime in the hallway outside, but he was too dazed to pay attention to the number of chimes it gave. Gingerly, he walked to his wardrobe and opened it. Immaculately pressed suits and robes hung in a rows in front of him. To the side of the enormous wardrobe were racks of beautifully polished shoes- oxfords, dress-shoes, loafers, sneakers...

He realised he was naked and he had to find something to wear. Anything would do. His eyes scanned the row of suits in front of him and to his horror, Draco realised that he didn't know where to start. There were far too many clothes here...what on earth did he need so many clothes for and how was he going to decide what to wear?

Shaking, he plunged his hand into the row of suits and robes and took out the first one he saw. It took him ages to dress, the buttons and zips felt strange to his fingers, the expensive wool of the suit felt stiff and uncooperative. Even his boxers felt confining. As he slipped on a pair of shoes, he feet protested at being encased in the well-cut shiny leather, even though each pair of shoes had been hand-made exactly to his size by a company in Italy.

All the while he was getting dressed, on the edge of his mind were the hazy memories of his dreams. He felt a desperate need to remember what had happened, but the memories came back maddeningly slowly.

First, he remembered a cottage and a stable. There had been a castle in the distance. A building that he had helped to build- some sortof barn- and a wood with a stream. Then the faces of people came back. A blue-eyed labourer with a simple smile, a crusty old man who yelled at him...and someone he cared about more than anything in the world... Her face swam into focus.

She was smiling at him. All at once, she was as fair as the sunlight and as dark as the moonshadow. She smelled of roses, they were her favourite flower, and her brown eyes and red hair shone gold in the flickering flames of firelight. Her voice saying, _I'll leave this cheese and these apples..._

Draco felt panic pricking at the edges of his mind.

He remembered.

He remembered _everything._

Feeling faint, he sat down heavily on the foot of his bed and put his head into his hands. He finally noticed the heavy weight of a gold and ruby ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. _I, Draco Malfoy, take you Hermione Granger..._

"Hermione" Draco said softly, "Why did you do this?"

  


  


*********************************************** 

  


Edward Montague nearly had a heart attack when on the 2nd of November 2005, his client Draco Malfoy, who had been missing for nearly six months, strode unceremoniously into his office in Little Hangleton.

"Good morning, Edward" said Draco, seating himself in a chair by the desk.

"D-D-Draco M-M-Malfoy?" Edward was paralysed with shock.

"The last time I checked, yes."

"Are you a g-g-ghost?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Edward. Do I look like a ghost to you?" Draco said crossly. "I was involved in a serious accident back in May during the Potions NEWT and was sent back in time for the last six months."

Edward opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

"But I'm back now," continued Draco, "And I need to know what's been going on for the last six months. Make it quick because I have many stops to make this morning, there is a matter of extreme urgency I need to attend to."

Edward recovered his composure. "How splendid to have you back, Mr Malfoy! I assure you everything in your estate is in order- in fact, I have the portfolios of all your various investments both in the wizarding world and the muggle world somewhere in my back office. If you would like to see them I could get Barbara..."

Draoc made an impatient gesture. "Not now, Edward. Give me more news, especially about the Zabini family."

Edward swallowed. "Why, there's nothing to report on that front. I am sure Mr Zabini and his daughter will be delighted to see that you have returned safely in time for the wedding."

"The wedding?" said Draco, a meaningful look in his eye, "Is that still on, then?"

"Well yes. I mean, of course." said Edward, "The Zabinis were informed by Dumbledore that you stood a good chance of re-appearing after Samhain and they saw no need to call the wedding off. In any case, I am sure you know that wizarding families are generally not hasty in calling off engagements."

"I see," said Draco, "That is all I wanted to find out. Thank you very much Edward, if you will send those files you mentioned up to Malfoy Manor later today, I'd be very grateful. Good day."

"Where are you going?" said Edward, curiously. "Shall I inform the Zabinis that you have returned? Mr Zabini has been most concerned about this."

"No" Draco said emphatically, "You have my strictest instructions not to inform them. I intend to do so myself soon, but first I have someone to visit, can you tell me where he is?"

"Who?" asked Edward.

"Harry Potter" said Draco. "I must speak to him as soon as possible."

  


  


************************************* 

  


"Sir! Please sir! You have to register your wand, sir!" squeaked Eric Munch, the wizard at the security desk.

Draco turned in irritation to the wizard and held out his wand. "Make it quick."

"Ebony, seventeen and three quarter inches, centaur tail hair core..." the security wizard checked his records and frowned. "This wand is registered as belonging to Lucius Malfoy, who is now in Azkaban."

"I'm his son, Draco Malfoy, you fool" said Draco, snatching back his wand.

"Please, you have to fill in this form explaining why you are not using one of your own wands today..." said Munch, scurrying after Draco. But Draco had already entered the lift and the doors banged shut in Munch's face.

"Malfoys..." Munch sighed and returned to his desk, "...just like his father used to be...think they own the place..."

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement..." said the lift pleasantly but Draco didn't wait to hear it finish its statement. He was already hurrying towards the Auror Headquarters.

Harry Potter hunched over a stack of reports in his office. There had been a vampire attack on muggles in the village of Hovings Brampton but the vampires arrested in connection with the matter all gave wildly different accounts of what had happened, each denying responsibility for the attacks. If veritaserum worked on them this would not be a problem, however, veritaserum didn't work on the undead... So it was up to Harry to compare all the different reports to try and see if he could find a common thread in all of them.

It was at the moment when he thought he could finally narrow down the blame to three main instigators of the attack when someone rapped smartly on his door. Before he could say "Enter", his door was flung open and the last person he expected to see on a Tuesday morning, barged into his office and walked right up to his desk.

"_Malfoy!?_"

"Potter."

Potter's hand instinctively went for his wand. Seven years at school with the Slytherin bad-boy had put him on guard around Draco.

"Put down your wand" said Draco, "do you really think that on my first day back in the present I would come all the way down here simply to attack you?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Merlin's beard, you're really back! What happened...where were you? Dumbledore was right wasn't it? It had to be after Samhain, were you in a parallel time?" Harry suddenly leapt to his feet, his eyes bright, "If _you're_ back...it means..._Where's Hermione?_ She's back too!"

Harry thought he saw a look of pain flash across Draco's face. "Yes, you're right." Draco said quietly. "I took...well, I used the Reverse Thyme Eliminus potion yesterday so she- she, I mean, Hermione, must have as well. That's what I came here about...I need to know if she came back with me...I woke up in Malfoy Mansion...if she's anywhere at all..."

"...she would be at home!" said Harry, grabbing his cloak. He glanced at his watch. "But it's already 11am. Surely she would have contacted one of us by now...she knows the location of the Ministry..."

Draco felt panic pricking at him again. It was all he could do not to break down and shout that he was terrified she had sent him back without her. There was still a chance, she might be in her bed at home, safe and sleeping...

"Let's go" said Draco, holding the door open for Harry.

Harry looked at him in shock.

"You want to go to her house? But Malfoy, it's a _muggle_ home."

"So what?" said Draco, striding towards the lift.

Harry and Draco got into the lift.

"What's going on?" Harry said, staring very hard at Draco. "You _hate_ muggles. You _hate_ Hermione. Why do you want to go to her home and find out if she got back?"

Draco avoided looking at Harry. He hadn't really thought about this part yet. He had always assumed Hermione would come back with him and _she_ would tell Potty and Weasel, "Oh yes, I married Draco Malfoy when we got sent back in time..." while he smirked and put an arm around her waist. He had never imagined he would have to tell them himself.

"Can we get there by Floo?"

"Why aren't you answering me?" said Harry, more loudly this time. "What's going on Malfoy? Have you done something to her? Are you feeling guilty about something?"

"No!" said Draco, turning to Harry, his face white, "You don't understand anything! Don't you accuse me of hurting her, because you don't understand anything!"

"_Tell_ me then" Harry said, crossing his arms.

"It'll take too much time...we have to get to her house. Come on, Potter, where is it? How do we get there? Move, damnnit!"

Harry made a swift mental assesment of the situation. Draco looked sincere, he almost looked frightened, and if Hermione was in any danger from Malfoy or otherwise...

"She's not connected to the Floo network so we have to apparate near her home in Surrey" said Harry at last. "Listen carefully to the address I'm going to give you so you apparate there correctly."

Draco nodded, his wand at the ready.

"15, Kellet Mews, Surrey, UK."

Outside the Ministry, there were two sharp cracks as both men disappeared, almost simultaneously.

"Get up"

Draco felt someone pulling him off the ground. He wasn't used to apparating or travelling by Floo anymore. It had almost sapped him dry of energy. The events of the morning had already almost worn him out...The world here was so much faster...so much more frantic than back in 1586. Everyone spoke so fast, everything happened so quickly... He got to his feet.

Harry held on to him a moment longer, again staring at him. "This had better not be some kind of joke Malfoy. Hermione had better be in there."

Draco said nothing. Nobody understood what had happened. They all assumed he still hated her, that he still hated all muggles and muggleborns. Harry rang the bell and a thin, pale woman answered the door.

Draco gasped.

"Hello Harry" said the lady who was the spitting image of Lady Katherine Granger "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Good morning, Mrs Granger" said Harry pleasantly. "W-We wondered if..." he and Draco exchanged glances.

"...if anything unusual happened this morning."

Mrs Granger looked surprised. "No, I don't think so. Crookshanks chewed up one of my best rugs, but that's about all. Won't you come in, Harry? And who's your friend?"

"Good morning, Mrs Granger, I'm Draco Malfoy" said Draco, extending his hand. The effect on Mrs Granger was electric. Her eyes opened in shock and her mouth formed an "O" of surprise.

"The boy who disappeared with Hermione!" she cried. "Is she back? DO you know what happened to her? Where is she?"

Draco had forgotten that Hermione's parents would probably have been informed of the full details of the accident and that he was involved in the disappearance. 

"If I'm back, she should be back soon, Mrs Granger" said Draco kindly. "Please don't worry, and she is quite...safe. She has been very well."

"What happened to her? These last six months have been hell for us all, I beg you, do you have any news of her? Please, come in and tell me."

Harry and Draco spent the next half hour in Hermione's sitting room, and Draco gave a very glossed over version of events.

"So you went back to 1486? You say she was a lord's daughter and you were a stablehand?"

"Yes" said Draco. "And we had to wait till after Samhain to return because we needed to gather the potions ingredients on Samhain night. Everyone in the past was most kind to us, Hermione was well looked after. She should be back soon, sometimes, the potion can be a bit temperamental."

"Oh as long as she's not dead! Thank God!" Hermione's mother wiped the tears from her eyes. "I must make a call to Hermione's father. He will be so excited! For months we have waited without news...Harry and Ginny have been so kind. And Ron and that nice girl Blaise too, they visit me all the time, and try to cheer me up." Mrs Granger smiled at Harry who smiled back.

"It wasn't a big deal," said Harry, glancing at Draco.

"Excuse me, did you say Blaise visited you as well?" Draco asked.

"Why yes. A pretty dark-haired girl...do you know her?"

Draco nodded. "She was in my house at Hogwarts."

"Well, Mrs Granger" said Harry, getting up, "The tea was lovely. We'll let you tell Mr Granger in private. Draco and I have some things to see to."

"Thank you for coming here so quickly to tell me. I can't tell you how relieved I am" said Mrs Granger, showing them out. "Oh and Harry, you remember what Dumbledore said, don't you? You _must_ let him know that Draco is back and that Hermione will be back any moment."

"I will, Mrs Granger. Goodbye for now."

Once they were outside the house, Harry swung fiercely around to Draco.

"All right, what's going on? Why the hell isn't Hermione back even though you are? And I don't want the version you gave Mrs Granger, I'm not stupid, I can tell you're not telling us everything."

Draco gave a bitter laugh.

"You want to know _everything_, Potter? What entitles you to that? I should disapparate right now and not tell you anything."

"Six months and you've not changed at all" said Harry, shaking his head. "Ron was right. We thought Hermione would have a good effect on you, but you're still the same..."

"The same what?"

Harry glared at him and turned away. "I hope you're happy now you're back and you've left Hermione to rot wherever she is. I bet you're glad you rid our time of one more muggleborn..."

"_Cruoris"_

Harry fell to his knees, yelling in pain. Draco held his father's wand outstretched, his face was hard as stone.

"What the hell, Malfoy!" grunted Harry, as he reached for his wand. "_Stupef_-..."

"_Protego"_ yelled Draco, deflecting the spell.

_Harry Potter is Hermione's best friend. Would Hermione be ashamed of how I am treating him? And Potter did help me find the Granger place...And here we are, scuffling like schoolboys on a muggle front lawn..._

Harry half-expected Malfoy to perform a crucio on him at any moment, but he watched in surprise as the expression on Draco's face softened.

"You want to know the truth about what happened, Potter?" said Draco stiffly, lowering his wand arm. "Well then I suggest you call in sick for work the rest of the day. It's going to take a long time."

Harry groaned as he got to his feet. "Where are we going?"

"Let's go back to my place" said Draco, dryly.

"Malfoy Manor?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Voldemort and Lucius are not around anymore and I'm not going to attack you or anything."said Draco, raising his wand "Coming?"

Harry Potter raised his wand. "Yes."

With a crack, both men disappeared and reappeared on the front porch of Malfoy Manor. Harry gaped at the elegant marble columns flanking polished oak doors of the front entrance.

"Welcome home, master" said a house elf, opening the door for Draco. The elf shrank back as Draco marched in, and Harry saw fear in its eyes. But surprisingly, Draco simply greeted the house-elf with a "Good morning, Kloddy". The house elf whimpered in surprise and happiness.

More house-elves greeted them in the hallway, and Draco showed Harry into the main drawing room.

"Sit down." said Draco, indicating a plush velvet sofa in the centre of the room. Harry gingerly sat down on it. There was something very odd about Malfoy. He was in a huge rush, he spoke in a clipped, urgent, way...not at all like the lazy drawl he had favoured back in Hogwarts.

Harry watched Draco as he paced the room in front of him. Every now and then, his face muscles would twitch and a a cloud pass over his gray eyes. A clock chimed in the hall.

"Er...Malfoy?" Harry wondered if Draco remembered he was in the room.

Draco looked up, his face still full of that worried-urgent look.

"Give me some time, Potter, I don't know where to begin or even how much I can bring myself to tell you about what happened."

"Before you even begin, Malfoy...are you sure you want to tell _me_? I understand you needed me to get you to Hermione's house, but wouldn't you rather be talking to Crabbe or Goyle?"

Draco gave him an odd look. "No, I already thought about that. But they wouldn't be of any help."

"Help? Why would I be of any help?"

"Because you are Hermione's best friend." Draco said, finally seating himself on the couch opposite Harry. He placed his head in his hands for a moment before looking at Harry again.

"You want to help her? Why on earth would Hermione need..."

"I think she is in danger. Look, I don't know where to start, but first of all I need you to believe that I truly want to help get her back and that I am willing to...to... co-operate with you to do so."

"And why should I believe you want to help her?" Harry asked, skeptically."Isn't it far more likely you played her out and left her stuck where she is? Come on, Malfoy. Not to be rude or anything, but everyone knows how you feel about Hermione."

"You're wrong." Draco said, "I didn't play her out. I really want her to come back."

"Why?" Harry asked, folding his arms.

Draco gave a wan smile, and Harry was shocked to see genuine warmth in Draco's usually cold, gray eyes. "Because Hermione is now my wife."


	28. Chapter 28: The Key To What Happened

**Chapter 28: Before Going Back**

  


****There was a deafening silence in the room. To Harry, it seemed that time stood still- a few days could have passed without him noticing at all.

"What?" he said at last, staring blankly at Draco.

"We were married on October 8, 1486" Draco said, steadily meeting Harry's eyes.

"You're married? T-To Hermione? B-But why? H-How? I don't understand...why would you, for that matter, why would Hermione...No...You can't be serious. All right Malfoy, you had your fun, what's really going on?" Harry babbled incoherently.

"It's true, Potter. It's all true."

"Why on _earth_ would she marry _you_?" Harry's face still bore that horrified, slightly nauseous expression, that one generally bears when receiving outrageous news.

"She married me because she loved me."

Harry shuddered. "I-I'm sorry...it's just that...it's so...not...Hermione."

"Then I guess you don't know your best friend as well as you think" shrugged Draco. "Now, to the more important part...don't you want to know why I think she's in danger?"

Harry forced all his attention back to the problem at hand, reserving a little pocket of mental space for outrage at Draco's news.

"Go on." Harry said. "Let's just take it that I believe you for now about the marriage bit."

"What I told Mrs Granger was true... Hermione went back as a the rich daughter on Lord Granger's estate and I as the stablehand on that same estate. After a while, we were bound to meet up, so we did, and we both figured out brewing a Reverse Thyme Eliminus would be the only way we could return to the present."

"Wait a minute, _Lord Granger's estate_?" Harry frowned. "Were they her ancestors or something, and if you just popped into the past, didn't anyone notice that you didn't fit in?"

"Yeah, we coudn't figure out why everyone just seemed to accept us at first, till we eventually figured out why."

"Why?" asked Harry, now really intrigued.

"We had _taken the place_ of the original Draco and Hermione. They looked exactly like us, talked like us, behaved like us...so no one noticed the difference."

"How is that possible? Where did they go when you took their place?"

Draco looked wryly at Harry. "This is the part you'll find even more unbelievable than Hermione marrying me..._they went back to the fay._ Wait" Draco put up a hand and stopped Harry, who's eyes were now as round as saucers behind his glasses, from interrupting. "Let me explain. The original Draco and Hermione died at birth. The fay put changelings in their places, it seems in preparation for us one day going to take their places. It seemed they _knew_ that one day, the Potions NEWT would go wrong and blast Hermione and I back to the past. They created places for us to inhabit, and when we really went back to the past, their changelings simply vanished and re-joined the fay."

"Fay dust in the Potion" murmured Harry, beginning to believe Draco.

"What?" Draco said, startled.

"Dumbledore sent Hermione's potion to the Ministry for micro-testing. They found _fay dust_ in the potion."

Draco was only slightly surprised by the news. "So you believe me now?"

"Go on...then what happened?"

"Hermione and I got caught sneaking around together one evening and her parents got really angry at her. Her father quickly arranged a marriage for her to a certain Baron Burnel of Lancaster, and banished me for good measure."

"What were you doing, sneaking around at night with Hermione?" Harry asked.

"What do you think, Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Okay, okay...go on. So how did you end up marrying her with this Baron in the way?"

"Her mother, Lady Granger, helped us. Apparently, she knew all along that Hermione was a changeling and she believed that only true love could save her heathen soul and restore her to God. She suspected Hermione was in love with me and touched her with holy water...unlike the times before we took the changeling's place, Hermione's flesh did not burn and so it convinced Lady Katherine that Hermione was really in love with me. She asked me if I loved Hermione, which I affirmed, and whether I would be willing to marry her daughter, which I was."

"So, Hermione married you to escape the marriage with Baron Burnel?" Harry asked, rather bluntly. "Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't."

"You still don't get it, do you , Potter?" Draco hissed. "Had all that never happened, I would have married Hermione anyway when we got back to the present. I promised her I'd break off my engagement to Blaise even before Lady Granger's offer to help us get married. So remember... the _only_ reason why we got married in the past was because we were both willing, we were in love, and we didn't want anything to separate us ever."

"Love? _Love_?" Harry said, "You say you _love_ Hermione, but you hardly know her! For seven years you hated her and made her miserable! What makes you think what you feel for her is _love?_"

Draco winced at the rawness of Harry's words. He looked away.

"Answer me, Malfoy." Harry demanded.

"You know how stubborn Hermione is...she thinks she can save the world by herself. Typical of you Gryffindor types. I think she stayed behind to sort things out with her family, she is in grave danger because I know the Baron is very unhappy with her and her family. She didn't want to put me in danger, so she sent me back first..."

"Malfoy, you still haven't answered me," Harry insisted.

"I know I love her, Potter, because all I can think about now that I'm here... is how to go back and help her. I don't care if I die trying, I must do it."

"You want to go _back_, Malfoy?" Harry was genuinely surprised.

"I know something bad happened to her. I can feel it," Draco said, worriedly. "I have to go back to her."

"How do you know she won't simply re-appear in a few days?"

"I can't explain. It wasn't meant to be this way...we should both be back here together, there's no other way for it to turn out." Draco said. "Potter, we both want Hermione back equally desperately....that is why I need your help. I've told you everything so will you help me?"

Harry looked at Draco for a few moments. Green eyes locked on grey.

"Okay." Harry said at last. "How can I help?"

"Come with me to Dumbledore," Draco said at once. "Put in a good word for me, I always was an ass before, but now I really need his help."

  


  


*************************************** 

  


"I have managed to gain access for you to the Museum Library in London." Dumbledore said to Harry and Draco. "It wasn't an easy matter to arrange but I understand how important this is to you Draco... and Harry. I too want Miss Granger back as soon as possible, but remember, _changing history is a terribly risky business_. For all our sakes, you _must_ find out what happened to her in the past before rashly bringing her back again."

He stared over the rims of his glasses at the two boys in front of him. "Miss Granger is a very smart witch. If she stayed behind, she must have had a very important reason for doing so."

"Please, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, "Are you sure the library is the best place to start?"

"It's where Miss Granger would have recommended" Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why don't we go straight to Mildenstowe in Suffolk?" Draco asked.

"Because there _is_ no Mildenstowe in Suffolk, not any more at least." Dumbledore shook his head as he spoke. "As soon as you boys told me that fantastic tale, I checked up on the villages you mentioned, but neither Aldeburgh or Mildenstowe exist any longer. The key to what happened to them, and to Miss Granger, lies within one of the books in that Museum Library, and you _must_ find out what happened before you try going back, Draco."

"Let's go now, Potter" Draco said, practically leaping out of the study chair.

"Just a minute..." Dumbledore held up a wrinkled hand. "Harry, I want a private word with Draco before you leave."

"With Draco?" Harry said, looking over at the grey-eyed wizard.

"I assure you, it will only take a minute" Dumbledore said.

"I'll wait downstairs, then" said Harry, "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

After Harry left, Professor Dumbledore turned to Draco with a serious expression.

"Draco, from my experience, the fay do not mess with the lives of people for no apparent reason. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Draco swallowed hard. The two men locked eyes for a moment before Draco looked away.

"No, Professor."

Dumbledore stared at the blonde wizard a while longer before nodding. "Very well, you may go."

"Thank you, Professor" Draco found himself blushing as he turned to leave.

"Draco..." The old wizard called out to the young man just before he left, "... if ever you want to tell me anything more about what happened, my door is always open to you. You do not need Harry to act as your intermediary: your choices have shown that you are worth more than what everyone imagined of you, or what you imagined of yourself."

  


  


******************************************* 

  


"Malfoy, wake up." Harry shook Draco gently. They were in the Public Records section of the Museum Library, surrounded by stacks of books.

Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost six. We have to leave soon."

"Just one more book" Draco said, heaving another tome onto the table.

"No," Harry snatched the volume away from him. "We can continue tomorrow. You're just going to make yourself ill if you continue like this."

Draco tried to snatch the book back, but Harry held it away from him.

"We're doing this wrong," Draco said, giving up trying to get the book back. "Surely we can find the record using magic."

"Dumbledore said we were forbidden to use magic in the muggle library."

"Typical Gryffindor...always afraid of breaking rules." Draco stood up from the table and stretched. He staggered slightly. Harry saw dark rings under Malfoy's eyes, and couldn't help but notice that he was getting very thin.

"Look, why don't you go home and get a good rest? You really don't look too well."

"Hey Potter," Draco said, as the two boys left their passes at the front reception.

"What?"

"Thanks for helping out."

"We'll find it soon, Malfoy. But I don't know how long you're going to be able to keep this a secret from the Zabinis. Ron's already been owling me frantically, wondering where I've been these last three days and I've had to lie through my front teeth about everything. You really should come clean, Malfoy....Hermione would have wanted it."

On the busy muggle pavement outside, Draco stopped and looked at Harry.

"You're right, Potter." For a moment, Draco looked lost.

"Why don't you start with Blaise? You owe it to her." Harry suggested, gently.

"Yes...Blaise. Of course."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm meeting Ron for dinner, want to come along?" Harry said suddenly.

"Weasel? I mean...Weasley?"

"Yeah...you really can't keep Ron out of it you know. He's one of Hermione's best friends too. And besides, he's been getting suspicious of my 'visiting Mrs Figg in hospital' excuse for not being in the office."

Draco grinned. "Okay then, I could use some dinner anyway. Let's go."

In half an hour, the two wizards had reached the Leaky Cauldron. Slipping inside, they found the place already packed with magical people of all sorts. The crowd made Draco uncomfortable. It had been a long time since he had been in such a thick crowd...even the fayre in Mildenstowe hadn't been as packed as this. But Harry seemed to take it for granted and made his way toward a table at the back.

To Draco's surprise, Harry suddenly swung round and held up his cape. "Er...wrong table, let's try over there."

"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco peered over Harry's shoulder. And laughed.

"My, my!"

Blaise leapt off Ron's lap. "DRACO!" she screamed.

"Bloody hell!" cursed Ron, wiping her lipstick off his face.  
"It's not what you think!" said Blaise, blushing furiously.

"What the sodding hell..." Ron still hadn't recovered his power of speech. Both Ron and Blaise gazed at Draco as if he were a particularly horrifying ghost.

"Everyone calm down!" said Harry, emerging from behind Draco. He was a good five inches shorter than the blonde wizard and no one had noticed him before.

"HARRY!" yelled Ron. "MALFOY'S BACK!"

"No need to shout you idiot, I'm not deaf" said Harry.

Blaise was still staring in horror at Draco, but Draco simply smirked and sat himself down at the table.

"I hope we weren't interrupting anything," Draco said, "Sit down Potter. Your friends seem happy to see me."

There was an awkward moment around the table during which Blaise blushed, Ron gaped, Draco smirked and Harry felt the distinct beginnings of a pounding headache. Finally, everyone tried to speak at the same time...

"Where were ..."

"Is Hermione..."

"So what's..."

"I brought..."

They lapsed into silence again. Harry decided that as this was all his fault, he'd better clear things up. He cleared his throat. "Er...Ron, Blaise...Malfoy came back three days ago."

Ron and Blaise sat in silence.

"We've been busy doing something the last three days and I though I'd ask him to dinner because he has something important to tell us, or well, yeah..."

"Hang on," said Draco, "I would think Weasley and Blaise have something important to tell _me._"

Ron turned purple. Harry sighed. "Malfoy, stop being so annoying and get to the point."

Malfoy grinned and Blaise relaxed slightly.

"Draco...I'm so sorry. You're not mad? I mean, it was nothing, really..."

"_Nothing_?" sputtered Ron.

"Weasley doesn't seem to think so" said Draco, feigning ignorance.

"This is ridiculous!" Harry said, rounding on Draco, "You know you couldn't care less what's going on between Blaise and Ron because..."

"Because?" asked Ron, curiously.

"Because?" asked Blaise, in surprise.

"Because..." said Draco, leaning back in his chair, "I'm married."

The news took a few moments to sink in. The looks on Ron and Blaise's faces were indescribable.

"To who?" whispered Blaise, her eyes huge and round.

"Yeah...who in bleeding hell would marry _you?_" asked Ron.

"I shall choose to ignore the rather unpleasant tone of your question, Weasley" said Draco, "But anyway, the answer to your question is... Hermione Granger."

Ron felt the whole room fall away from him. He was only dimly aware of hands holding him back as he lunged for Malfoy and shook him by the collar.

"How...dare...you...what...the...hell...is..."

"Ron...NO! RON!" yelled Harry and Blaise, holding him back.

A group of middle-aged witches at the next table gasped and peered curiously at the scene.

"Get him away from me!" shouted Malfoy, giving Ron a kick in the shins, and causing the red-haired wizard to yell in pain.

"Ron! RON! _Please!_" cried Blaise.

It took the combined efforts of Harry and Blaise to restrain Ron as he swiped ineffectually across the table at Malfoy.

"He...said...he...married...Hermione...What...the...fuck...she would never marry a nasty little ferret like..."

THWOCK.

Draco leapt out of his seat and boxed Ron's ears.

The group of middle-aged witches at the next table screamed and several other tables turned to peer at the commotion. Whispers of "It's Harry Potter!...and a Malfoy...Lucius' son...fighting...No, he's going for the Weasley kid...Isn't that Zabini's daugther..."

Tom, the keeper of the Leaky Cauldron came hurrying over.

"Now, now, what's going on Harry? Ron? We can't have fighting in here."

Ron's eyes were still glazed over, Draco had boxed him really hard around the ears and he was in too much pain to answer.

"I'm sorry, Tom" Harry said, glaring at Draco and Ron. "I've got it under control."

"Fighting in front of ladies," said Tom, indicating Blaise Zabini beside Ron, "Very bad form indeed! Shame on you! Let's not have any more nonsense tonight or I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

Ron began muttering furiously... "she would never marry you... what have you done to her you slimy git..."

"Ron, it's true" Harry said quietly. "If I'd known you'd take it so badly, I would've told you myself!"

"It's true?" gasped Blaise, staring at Malfoy. Her eyes went immediately to the fourth finger of his left hand. She saw a gold and ruby ring on it that she had never seen him wear before. "Oh my God, Draco... but what about... oh my god, my father's going to _kill_ you! And Hermione's a...a..._muggleborn..._"

Draco straightened the front of his robes where Ron had nearly ripped off his tie.

"Where...is...she...you...ferret...what...have...you...done...with...her..."

"I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me names," Draco said. "I came here prepared to be civilised."

"Names? _Names?"_ said Ron, angrily. "Who's the frickin' KING of name calling eh? Perhaps I should refresh your KINGLY memory, or have you left your brains in a BIN?"

Draco waved his hand. "Get over it Weasley. I apologise, all right?"

Ron sputtered ineffectually. He hadn't expected that.

"Hermione's not back yet," Harry explained. "Draco said she splashed the Reverse Thyme Eliminus Potion on him but stayed behind herself for some reason."

"What reason?" asked Ron.

"I don't really know. The last thing she said to me was that it was very important and she didn't want me there when she did it. Potter and I have been combing public records in the Museum Library to try and gain a clue to what happened in 1486."

"So she's not coming back?" Ron said, turning white and red and white again.

"She is" said Draco shortly.

"How?" asked Ron and Blaise together.

Harry and Draco exchanged looks.

"Malfoy's going back to get her." said Harry softly. "We went to Dumbledore for help."

Ron and Blaise stared at Malfoy who was blushing slightly.

"Bloody hell" said Ron. It was more a statement than a curse.

Blaise suddenly looked worried. "Are you going to break off the engagement with me, Draco?"

Draco nodded. "I'm sorry Blaise, but you know it's what we both wanted anyway. It's just that neither of us had the guts to do it before."

"But Draco...you know the consequences..."

"Yes," said Draco, wryly.

"And you don't care?"

"No."

Blaise turned to Ron and Harry, and she smiled. "Don't worry you guys. Draco really does love Hermione."

  


********************************************* 

  


****The next day found Harry and Draco back in the Museum Library. The muggle librarian there was beginning to get used to the two "Government Officials" doing "Research" for their "Ministry" there. She observed that they had different styles of working. The blonde boy would take stacks of public records down and sift through them as quickly as possible. The dark-haired boy would take the books from the shelves one by one and comb through each slowly. But a simple _confundus_ charm prevented her from thinking too much, and she had no desire to question them about their work.

"Malfoy" said Harry suddenly, "Look at this"

"What is it?" Draco leapt up from the desk and hurried over to where Harry was standing, a book open in his hands.

"Is this it?"

Draco's eyes flew over the words on the page, the section was entitled "_A Historie_ _of the Western Counties of Olde Englonde."_

Glancing to where Potter's fingers marked the text, Draco read, _"_..._in 1563, the Thirty Nine Articles established the Anglican Church in Englonde. The Queene merged the villages of Aldeburgh, Goringsbury, Routheburgh, Mildenstowe and Lorston in strongly Catholic Suffolk into the precinct of Thorpeness. The local parishes were stripped of their priests and brought under the control of Westminter Abbey..."_

"Thorpeness" said Draco, under his breath. "You found it Potter. It's _Thorpeness_!" Draco turned and walked rapidly to another section of the Records.

"What are you doing?" Harry hurried over.

"Bloody hell," He pulled out a few volumes of books. "It was right under our noses all this time!"

"I'm sorry, dears. We're closing." said the librarian, popping her head around the door.

"Could we just have ten more minutes? I think I've found what I've been looking for at last." asked Draco desperately.

"I'm sorry, it's actually past six. I let you have a few moments longer already" the librarian said apologetically. She jangled a bunch of keys in her hands.

"Malfoy," Harry said, "Let's continue tomorrow. The books will still be here."

Draco's eyes were feverishly bright as he clutched the stack of books. "Please, just a while more."

The librarian made an impatient sound. "I'm afraid not, Mr Malfoy."

Draco opened his mouth to continue arguing, but changed his mind and stopped. "All right, we'll be out in a minute."

The librarian nodded and waited by the door.

Draco turned around, his back to Harry. Harry gathered up his things. He could hear Draco muttering under his breath, and understood how frustrated he must feel. Harry, too, wanted to look at those books, but they had promised Dumbledore to abide by the rules of the library...it had taken special cross-Ministry privileges for them to be allowed into that section of the library.

"All right" said Draco tensely, turning round. "Let's go"

Outside the library, they paused to say goodbye to each other, before going their separate ways. Harry couldn't help but think that there was something odd about Draco'd behaviour that night. Before Harry had even finished saying goodbye, Draco disapparated.

Back at Malfoy Manor, he knelt on the porch, in front of a surprised house elf.

"Master...what are you..."

"_Finite Incantatem"_

In front of Draco, appeared a stack of books. Previously as small as peas, they grew rapidly to full-sized volumes. The house-elf stared in surprise.

"Come inside, Master" the elf said timidly, but Draco ignored her. He was already leafing quickly through the books. Frustrated, he threw one aside. Draco didn't notice that more house-elves were gathering around him. None of them dared speak. Their master seemed to have gone mad, feverishly flipping through books on his front porch.

"_Lumos"_ muttered Kloddy, as she saw Draco squinting in the growing dark. Her master seemed not to notice what she had done for him.

The house elves began to mutter. Never before had their master behaved so irrationally. Around Malfoy Manor, night fell in a smothering rush. There was no sound to be heard but the frantic flipping of pages and Draco's raid intakes of breath. The house-elves fidgeted, sensing their Master's nervousness and desperation.

Hours later, under the faint magic light conjured by Kloddy, and surrounded by his curious house-elves, Draco's eyes finally fell on the page he wanted. 

The paper was yellowed, and the ink faded - but to Draco, the words shone as clearly as coals on snow.

"MASTER!" screamed Kloddy... as her master howled, and flung the book into the dark.


	29. Chapter 29: A Price To Pay

**Chapter 29: A Price To Pay**

  


"Where are your daughter and her husband? Did we not make it explicitly clear that they were to turn up for questioning?" said Baron Burnel, smugly.

Lady Granger didn't dare meet her husband's eyes. Lord Granger spoke as boldly as he could.

"They have escaped from us, Your Excellency. It is my understanding that my daughter does not want anything more to do with this family."

The envoy frowned. "Lord Granger, may I remind you that defiance of a royal edict has grave consequences."

"What more do you want?" Lady Granger said, despairingly. "My husband has already signed over our lands!"

"It is not up to you, a mere Lord of the Manor, to question the intentions of those higher above you in station" said the envoy. "That itself is an act of defiance."

"Father Lorenzo has provided the parish register here, you can check it yourselves to see they are proper wed!" Lady Granger thrust the book at them.

"I am not interested in that!" said the Baron in frustration. "Bind them." he said to his armed guards, who stood around the room. Fanhope and Audley, ever faithful to Lord Granger put their hands on the hilts of their swords but Lord Granger shook his head at them.

"M'Lord!" a servants rushed into the hall. "She has returned!"

"What is this?" said the Baron in irritation. Lord Granger looked equally puzzled.

"Who do you mean, Thwaites?" he asked his servant, who was out of breath with running.

"Lady Hermione! She has just ridden into the manor!"

A murmur passed through the hall. Lady Granger caught her husband's eye and her face drained of colour. Footsteps were heard outside the Great Hall.

"Let my parents go."

"Hermione!" Lord Granger could not believe his eyes. He had thought that his wife would have helped their child escape, but here she was, in the flesh!

"Hermione!" said her mother. "What are you doing here?"

"Obeying the orders of the King, and of my parents" Hermione said.

"Release them" said the envoy to the Baron. The Baron reluctantly commanded his men to do so.

"It is wise that you should come, child" said the envoy. "Or your parents would have suffered greatly."

"I could not let that happen to them" Hermione said, "I serve my King and my parents. Now, tell me, what is it you want of me?"

The Baron made a face, "Where is your husband?"

Lady Granger held her breath. Hermione felt her cheeks redden.

"He is... dead" she said.

Lady Granger put her hands to her mouth in horror.

"You know it is a sin to lie, child. Are you hiding your husband? You have nothing to fear from us." the envoy said.

"Where the deuce is that low-born husband of yours?" the Baron said, not quite as politely as the envoy.

"He is dead." Hermione repeated, louder this time. "And I have a witness."

"Who?" said the envoy.

"Mary Ludlow, my nursemaid. My husband Draco drowned in the lake near Goringsbury a week ago. His body was never found."

""Tis true" said Mary Ludlow, from behind Fanhope. "My poor mistress went out of her mind, I had a time of it soothing her."

The envoy and Baron exchanged looks. Lord and Lady Granger kept perfectly still.

"Very well," said the envoy. "So you are a widow now, Mistress Hermione."

"Yes" she said, "You still haven't told me, how I might assist you."

The Baron pounded the table with his fist in irritation. "You are worthless to me, Mistress Hermione! I care not about the status of you or your marriage! My business was with your husband- but now it appears he is dead!"

"What business could you have had with him?" asked Lady Granger.

"Lord Granger, maybe you can answer your wife. If she were to shame you by choosing the affections of a base-born stableboy over yours, what would you do?"

"I would..." Lord Granger bit his tongue.

"Precisely."

"You wanted to harm Draco, didn't you?" Hermione said, her eyes gleaming. "I knew it. You were so humiliated at being upstaged in your affections by a stableboy that you wanted to take it out on him, didn't you?"

"Mistress Hermione..." said the envoy, "Do not presume..."

"I presume nothing!" Hermione said. "Ask him yourself!"

"When you coupled with that wretch, did he smell like _dung_ from the stables?" laughed the Baron.

Hermione clenched her fists.

"How dare you..."

"But not to worry, Mistress Hermione, it seems God has settled the score. When servants try to overstep their position in life, they tend to meet with sticky ends. His body rots in the lake now, and the score is settled."

_Control yourself. _Hermione thought. _Just don't say anything that you'll regret and soon this awful man will go away and you can use the extra Reverse Thyme Eliminus in your pocket to return home to Draco._

Hermione said nothing.

"Well, if that's all you want of my daughter, perhaps you'll leave my house now." said Lord Granger. He appealed to the envoy, who seemed the more reasonable of the two. "Our household has fulfilled all the terms of the broken engagement and you have no further business with us."

"Well, I believe all is in order" said the envoy. "Your Excellency, we should go."

The Baron gave an oily grin.

"Yes, I don't see why not, there is nothing left of this pathetic Granger estate that could be of any use to me. Oh, and Lord Granger, don't bother trying to increase your lands again, you will find the neighbouring counties very un-cooperative. It seems many of them have less than pleasant memories of your daughter's hospitality towards them."

"Show them out" Lord Granger said to his servants.

The Baron paused by Hermione on his way out.

"So lovely, and yet...so foolish" he said, "My deepest sympathy on your...loss." He raised her left hand to his lips. Hermione shuddered as his lips met her hand. The Baron paused as he lowered her hand. His grip tightened around her fingers, and his eyes grew wide.

"What is this?" he gasped, staring at her fingers. "Where did you get it?"

Hermione tried to pull her hand out his grasp but his grip on her was vice-like.

"What business is it of yours? Let me go!" Hermione said fiercely.

"What is the matter?" Lord and Lady Granger hurried over, with the envoy close behind.

The Baron was pale. "This ring...where did your daughter get it?"

"'Tis her wedding ring!" said Lady Granger. "This is a trinket from Lord Mannerly that she gave to her husband out of charity before they were wed. Her husband, being poor, used it as their wedding ring. What's the surprise in that?"

"'Tis not Mannerly's ring" said the envoy, himself turning pale.

"Nay, Mannerly's crest is that of a snake and a swan, not a dragon and a snake" said The Baron, twisting Hermione's hand closer to get a better look at the ring.

"Let me go!" said Hermione.

"What is the matter with the ring, your excellencies?" asked Lord Granger in irritation.

Baron Burnel wrenched the ring off Hermione's finger and she yelped in pain.

"Give it back!" she said.

"This ring..." said the Baron, holding it out of her reach "This ring belongs to one of the most feared servants of the King."

The envoy crossed himself.

"You're crazy!" said Hermione. "It is my husband's ring!"

"Who does it belong to then?" asked Lord Granger.

The Baron and the envoy exchanged looks.

"It is the seal of the Witch Hunter" said the envoy quietly.

"_Witch Hunter_?" Lady Granger said faintly.

"One of the King's most secret servants. A terrible, man, called only when needed to root out witchcraft among God's people, a pale horseman who travels by night..." said the Baron in hushed tones.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh come on..."

"Silence, girl" her father said, his brows furrowing in worry.

"He is a foreigner that comes and goes as quickly as the wind. Some say he is a mysterious Frenchman, some say he is the Angel of Judgement himself come to rid us of witchcraft...His seal is a dragon and a snake, and I would know that ring anywhere. How did you come by it, woman?" asked the envoy.

"I'm telling you, it is my husband's!" Hermione insisted. "I lied to you all at the flogging...it is not Lord Mannerly's, it really was my husband's all along! Ever since he was born it has belonged to him, and he has worn it round his neck on a cord! But who would have believed us if we had told you that?"

"What is your late husband's name?" asked the envoy suddenly.

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Just tell them, daughter" said Lady Katherine in hushed tone.

"Draco...Draco Malfoy" said Hermione.

"_Seize her!"_

  


****************************************** 

  


  


"SILENCE!" roared Tiberius Ogden. "This is your last warning- if you reporters cannot control yourselves, I will have you banned from the courtroom!"

The hordes of witches and wizards lining the walls, each with a scribble pad and pencil in hand, immediately stopped jostling and whispering. All the press of the wizarding world was represented – _The Daily Prophet, Witches' Weekly, The Evening Star, Vague, News of The Wizarding World, Hag Mag, The Quibbler,_the list went on. None wanted to miss the socialite case of the year – a pureblood dissolution of engagement.

Tiberius Ogden gave them a piercing glare. Above the rows of reporters, the gallery was packed with curious witches and wizards, many of them pureblood. The heat was stifling.

"All right, all right, let's move it along...Suit No. 412 of 2005: In the matter of dissolution of engagement between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, heard this seventh day of November, 2005... Case for the plaintiff?" said Tiberius, a trickle of perspiration running down his face. He could not recall having such a packed courtroom in years.. "And hurry it up, it's like a zoo in here!"

"Yes, Your Honour" Mollock stood up, next to a beaming Roberto Zabini. "We apply for half the property of one Draco Malfoy as our legal right under the terms of the broken wizard engagement. Of the substantial assets- these include four out of eight properties in England and France, 50% of the shares in sixteen companies listed at Annex A of the bundle you see before you, twelve race horses, twenty riding horses, eight carriages, a magical yacht, and three muggle cars. Current total value..."

The reporters trembled with anticipation, their pens poised anxiously over their scribble-pads. No one had ever known the actual size of the Malfoy fortune before.

"... some thirty one million seven hundred and fifty thousand galleons."

There was a collective gasp in the courtroom.

"_Great horny pixies_!" breathed Ron, clutching Harry. "No wonder Malfoy was always such an annoying prat!"

Harry himself had to swet his mouth in shock at the size of the Malfoy fortune.

"Well, what do you say Mr Malfoy? Do you challenge this?" Tiberius had already lifted his gavel, and was waiting to close the case.

"No, he can have it" said Draco, dryly. "I break the engagement."

"Not that _he's_ going to do badly with only another thirty one million galleons left..." muttered Ron.

"We also apply that Malfoy appear before the Pureblood Practices Council and that he accept the consequences of chastisement thereunder."

"Well, Mr Malfoy?" asked Tiberius.

"I do not object" said Draco. "Isn't it strange, Mr Zabini, that _you _are the head of the Pureblood Practices Council?"

The reporters murmured.

"Yes, but only after your own father got sent to Azkaban." Zabini retorted.

"Will the plaintiff and defendant avoid speaking out of turn!" said Tiberius. "Well, if that's all..."

"Wait." said a woman's voice. "What if _I_ wanted to break off the engagement as well?"

"Blaise!" said her mother faintly, "What are you doing?"

"I said, what if I wanted to break off the engagement as well? Would that cancel out the terms of breaking the engagement or does it mean that the Malfoy's get half of our fortune?" Blaise Zabini stood up from where she was seated on the opposite side of the room from Harry and Ron.

"Blaise, you will be _silent_!" said her father.

The reporters began murmuring again.

"Miss Zabini, why do you want to break off the engagement?" one of them from The Evening Star shouted. "Are you really breaking it off?"

Tiberius turned in fury to them "I have warned you before...one more word in my courtroom..."

But the reporters were all abuzz now, and the rest of the courtroom as well. Ron blushed to the tips of his ears.

"Miss Zabini, why didn't you speak up before?" said Tiberius, "Stand up so we can hear you properly."

Shyly, Blaise stood up.

"I...I...was scared of...of...my father before..." she said, uncertainly.

"Well that's understandable, the poor child," said one of the witches in the courtroom to another.

"...and...I didn't r-realise how much Draco had to give up..."

"I'm warning you daughter...." said Roberto Zabini. Blaise's mother swooned away and had to be revived by her friends Angela Crabbe and Barbara Flint.

"Let your daughter speak" said Tiberius. "And if you try any retribution on her later, it will be the worst for you, Mr Zabini. Go on, Miss Zabini."

"...as I was saying...I d-didn't realise how much Draco would have to give up...and I now realise that it's true love between he has for her. Why should custom stand in its way?A-And why should he make that sacrifice for t-true l-l-love and n-not m-me? A-After all, I t-too l-l-love somebody else..." she looked at Ron, who was about as red as the robes on the wizengamot. He looked so pleased he might burst. Harry grinned.

"WHO IS IT?" roared Roberto Zabini, looking like he might have a heart attack at any moment.

"R-Ron Weasley" said Blaise, smiling at Ron.

The reporters, who were having a field-day up till now, muttered among themselves that it was a pity Ron was a pureblood, or it would have been so much more exciting.

"Well," Tiberius said, chewing a pencil, "I believe that if both sides wish to break off the engagement... hmmm... I think the party who _first_ confirms his wish to do so is at the losing end..._Warbeck v Diggory, 1789 _stood for that point. This ensures that both sides are not eager to be the first to end the engagement. I'm sorry, Miss Zabini."

Mollock and Zabini looked relieved.

All this time, Edward Montague was whispering fiercely to Draco, "She said you loved someone else? Who is it? So this is why you wish to break off the engagement!"

"It's Hermione Granger" muttered Draco, to his lawyer, "The girl who was sent back with me."

"For the last time Draco, I'm asking you, to think carefully about breaking off your engagement for this girl...there's nothing I can do to help you get back your money or place in Pureblood Society!"

"Edward...you don't understand...she's my wife we were married when we got blasted back to the past...."

Edward Monatgue's eyes widened. "Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me before?"

"I...she..." Draco couldn't find the words.

"Oy Mr Malfoy! Miss Zabini said yer were in love with someone else, 'oo is she?" yelled a witch from _Hag Mag._

"Miss Cratchett! This is the final straw! You will ..."

But Tiberius Ogeden was cut short by Edward Montague's shout, "Your Honour! Stop the proceedings! _My client is was never engaged to Blaise Zabini_!"

Edward Montague had to repeat his shout several times for Tiberius to understand him. The courtroom was on fire with noise. Tiberius banged his gavel on the table and shouted for silence to no effect. Finally, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at the courtroom.... "_SILENCIO!"_

The effect was immediate. Everyone found their voices not working.

"That's better" said Tiberius. "Now, before I lift the spell, I want you all to agree that no one is to speak unless I give him permission to."

The courtroom nodded.

"_Finite Incantatem"_

There was a low murmur that faded into silence. All eyes were on Draco and Mr Montague.

"Mr Montague, you will explain your shocking statement to the courtroom" said Tiberius.

"My client has just revealed to me that he was married on October 8, 1486 to Miss Hermione Granger."

The courtroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Several pureblood witches swooned away at the news. _Lucius Malfoy's only son marrying a muggleborn? Impossible!_  
"If that is so, it follows that for all time after that, they were married....including in the year 2004 which is when..."

"...our engagement was made!" exclaimed Blaise. "Oh Ron! It's going to be okay!"

"Miss Zabini, really!" Tiberius said, furrowing his brow. "Continue Mr Montague."

"...As you know, if a man is already married, he cannot be engaged to another unless formally divorced by this court....which my client never was. My client was _never engaged to Blaise Zabini_. There was no engagement ever, because all the time, my client was married to Miss Hermione Granger!"

There was a deadly silence in the courtroom.

_so mote it be, you've wish'd it well..._

The words echoed in Draco's mind..._never engaged to Blaise Zabini...never engaged to Blaise Zabini... _and as he replayed the words over and over in his mind, he could smell fernseed, and fresh thyme, and roses...

"But you took her away..." Draco didn't notice he was talking to himself "Not this way! Not like this...damn you! _Damn you!_"

_we fay folk like to have our fun_

_but fear ye not, your wish is done_

"**Outrageous**!" shouted Roberto Zabini. "Where is your proof of this?"

"_Accio Mlildenstowe Parish Register"_ cried Draco, leaping to his feet. There was a dead silence. The room began to mutter, some people began to giggle.

"Is this all a trick?" said Mollock, looking sourly at Mr Montague and Draco.

Harry and Draco exchanged looks.

"Please, your honour, the evidence will be here soon" said Draco.

The wizengamot began to laugh, and the reporters smiled as they scribbled on their pads.

An alarm went off.

"What the..."

"_Security breach! A window of the Ministry has been broken_!" came a pleasant voice. "_Security to Level Ten_"

There was a whizzing noise and something hit the centre of the judges' stand with a BANG. It was an old book. Everyone stopped laughing.

"There is your evidence" said Draco triumphantly. "Look for October 8, 1486".

Intrigued, Tiberius Ogden began leafing through the book. Griselda Marchbanks, behind him, leaned over so far that she nearly fell off her bench. Tiberius Ogden jammed his finger onto an entry and began to read aloud.

"_Ano Domnini 1486_

_Octo Dies In Decimus Semestris _

_In Regio Mildenstowe, Suffolk_

_Draco Malfoy Matrimonium Hermione Granger_

_Padre Petter Lorenzo Facio Sacramento Matrimonium _

_Testis Katherine Granger _

_Et Mary Ludlow..."_

Tiberius read the words aloud, slowly and clearly. The courtroom was deathly silent. Roberto Zabini's eyes bulged. Mollock looked defeated. Blaise and Ron smiled at each other. Harry held his breath. Draco heard the familiar words and felt like he had seen them yesterday...He felt tears pricking at his eyes.

"Well, your honour... what do you say?" said Edward Montague. 

The Wizengamot muttered and passed the book around to each other.

"All those who say the engagment is void, raise your right hand" said Tiberius quietly. Without hesitation, the whole wizengamot raised their hands.

"Very well, it is clear to me that the engagement was never valid. There never _was_ an engagement because the defendant Draco Malfoy was married to one Hermione Granger while the contract was made. The defendant may keep all his property. I suggest the Enforcement of Magical Law Department and the Pureblood Practices Council work together to reform such outdated and ridiculous laws as we have seen nearly in action today. Oh, by the way" Tiberius looked at Ron with a twinkle in his eye, "I also wish Miss Zabini and Mr Weasley, the very best. Case Closed."

Edward Montague felt like all his life in Wizengamot College had paid off, this was possibly the highest point of his career. The courtroom burst into a babble of voices, it was noisier than the after-match party at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Where is your _wife_ then?" shouted Roberto Zabini suddenly to Draco. "_Produce the mudblood_!"

Harry, Ron and Blaise flinched at his words. 

Draco's face drained of colour and he gripped the sides of his chair.

"I said the case is _closed._ Please leave my courtroom...all of you...worse than a zoo..."

"Move along, move along" said the security wizards in attendance.

"_Shame on you for marrying a mud- muggleborn...if Lucius were around..."_

"Move along, Mr Zabini..." the security wizards drew their wands and ushered him firmly out, amidst a rabble of yelling reporters.

Blaise, Harry and Draco lingered after everyone had left.

"So, where is Hermione, anyway?" Harry said, under his breath. "What were you going to tell us before we all got summoned here by Mr Zabini?"

"Can we...go... somewhere... private?" Draco said, brokenly. Blaise noticed he looked wretchedly pale and she put a steadying hand on his arm, and Ron couldn't help but feel the slightest bit jealous.

"Wassamatter?" Ron said, testily "Why cant you tell us here?"

Draco shook his head. "Let's go somewhere private, where's the nearest place?"

"My place," Harry said quickly. "It's at 12 Grimmauld Place."

"Let's go then" Draco said, "I promise you Weasley, I've a good reason to tell you in private."

"Come on, Ron. Let's go" Blaise said, tugging at Ron's hand.

"And you better make it quick" Draco said, as he headed for the Ministry lifts "...because every minute counts."

  


  


  


  


  


  


_when things come to be the faerie way_

_there always is a price to pay_


	30. Chapter 30: No One Came

  


**Chapter 30: **

  


  


Bruised and dirty, Hermione was thrust forward into the courtroom by armed guards. Her eyes flashed angrily as she stared at the panel before her. There was an empty seat in the middle of the panel.

"You are making a big mistake" she said. "I was not meant to die like this!"

"Are you saying you can see the future, witch?" cried one of the men on the bench. He was a priest, who looked much like Father Lorenzo, but whose eyes were hard. Father Lorenzo was now miles away, in Mildenstowe, while she was all alone here in Essex, where the witch trials were conducted.

"Once again, I ask you what this foul philtrum we found on you is?" said a well-dressed man on the bench, holding up her leather pouch of Reverse Thyme Eliminus.

"Why don't you drink some and see?" she said, wearily.

"The witch tries to murder us!" said someone in the crowd, and several people crossed themselves.

"He is here!" shouted someone. A hush fell upon the crowd as heavy footsteps approached the room.

"My Lord" said a guard, falling back.

Her hands tied behind her back, and her feet chained together, Hermione tried her best to turn around to see who had arrived. A tall, hooded figure in a black cape stepped into the room.

_Death Eater_ was Hermione's first thought. _No, but surely not..._There was a familiar aura about the figure. The people in the room could feel it as well, children began to cry and some of the women turned away from the sight of him.

The figure lifted a pale hand and held out a royal decree, clearly stamped with the Royal Seal of Henry Tudor.

"My Lord...you have come so swiftly, as usual... we are much obliged. Please, take your seat."

The figure's face was half-obscured by his hood, and the rest of it was in shadow. Calmly, he mounted the raised dais and took his seat on the bench at the centre of the panel. There was a quiet moment as he regarded Hermione from beneath his cloak. She thought she saw him nod imperceptibly, before he began to speak. His voice had a heavy French accent, but despite the heavy accent, there was something in the quality of his voice that was startlingly familiar.

"You, Hermione Granger, are brought before us on charges of witchcraft - _sorcellerie_. The circumstances are thus...you were found in possession of my seal, which I thought lost for many months, but which you claimed belonged to your late husband... a stableboy. You said his name was Draco Malefoy... _cest impossible_- _le travail du diable!_"

"Why is it impossible?" cried Hermione. "It _was_ his ring, it was passed to him by his father!"

The figure gave a soft laugh. "I can confirm that that is not so. You see," the figure paused, "...Draco Malefoy died at birth. I myself felt his heart stop beating and saw his limbs turn blue."

"You?" said Hermione, wildly. "YOU saw him die?"

"Yes" said the figure. "You claim to know about your husband's father? Well, I don't think we've ever met..."

He lifted his hood and glared at her.

Hermione gasped. Before she could help herself, one word escaped her lips: "_Lucius!_"

There was a murmur around the court room. The man looked taken aback. "What did you say?"

"She said the name of the devil! She called on _lucifer_!" cried one of the crowd.

"Do you call the devil to your aid, witch?" said the man, coldly. "Do you show your true colours at last?"

Hermione fell silent. Her mind was was working overtime.

"_Qui est-ce je suis_?" the man said, "I am Antoine Malefoy, Master Witch Hunter in both France and England. The boy you claim to be my son _died_ at birth. I felt his heart stop beating. So do not persist with your lies."

"How do you explain the ring?" Hermione said, staring at it. It was back on Antoine's finger.

"_You_ must explain that to me. One morning in May, I awoke and found that the ring had disappeared. It had been on my finger the night before. In fact, I have documents sealed with it dated the day before to prove that it was with me. My wife and I searched everywhere for it: it was by your sorcery, that you had spirited it away here to England!"

"It is DRACO'S ring" Hermione was getting tired of this. She was beginning to realise that no matter what she said, the people would still be convinced she was a witch. She could have thrown herself on her knees and begun reciting the Lord's Prayer and they would have still convinced themselves she was casting a spell.

"And this potion they found on you....it is made of herbs common to witchery!" said Antoine, holding up the leather pouch and sniffing the potion.

"How do you know that?" said Hermione.

Antoine's face twitched. "I have much experience in these matters of witchcraft."

Hermione had to suppress a bitter smile as she said calmly, "I am sure you do."

Antoine calmly poured the potion on the floor in front of him where it left a dark stain on the wooden panels. There was a soft hiss and a puff of smoke, as the Reverse Thyme Eliminus disappeared into the planks forever.

"NO!" shouted Hermione, trembling with rage. Antoine smiled at her- the same, condescending, _evil,_ smile that often graced Lucius' lips. Hermione began to understand, and the realisation of why Antoine Malefoy co-operated with muggles to hunt out witches was so disgusting that she felt her stomach heave.

"I'm sure Salazar would have been proud of you."

"Who?" said one of the panel members.

"Salazar Slytherin... Antoine's friend." Hermione said, with a gleam in her eye.

"How do you know this Salazar, witch?" asked another priest on the panel.

Antoint Malefoy stood up abruptly from his chair. "This witch is trying to draw us into a blasphemous argument."

Hermione tried to walk towards the panel, but the binds on her legs made it impossible for her to move more than a few steps.

"What an efficient way of ridding the world of muggleborns and half-bloods" Hermione said, "_Shame on you!_"

"All you people of God, hear me!" Antoine said, his voice thundered around the room, "Do not listen to the lies of this evil witch! _C'est__ une sorcière dangereuse _.... Leave this room at once, and I will make sure her powers are broken!"

The people gasped and there was a collective rush fo the door.

"_Antoine Malfoy is a wizard himself! Do not be deceived by him_!" Hermione was shouting. But in the babble of voices and shouts to escape, no one was listening to her.

"Be careful, my lord" said one of the priests, "Do you think you can handle her on your own? Had we better not stay to assist?"

Antoine shook his head. "No, I am the Master Witch Hunter, I can break this lowly devil of the servant myself. There has not been a witch who has resisted me yet."

The priests walked out, crossing themselves. As soon as the doors to the courtroom slammed, Hermione screamed at Antoine, "HOW CAN YOU BETRAY YOUR OWN KIND?"

Antoine took out his wand from within his robes. It was a natural and practiced move.

"You are not my "kind"_... vous étes sang-de-bourbe... vous êtes repugnant_... The daughter of two muggles, should not be allowed to live."

_Draco, your ancestors are going to kill me..._ Hermione thought. Her eyes grew wide with fear as Antoine advanced upon her, his wand outstretched. _Lucius...No, "Antoine"...is going to kill me...There is no more potion. It is lost on the floorboards. There is no more Draco, he is gone back to the future. There is no one here at all._

She began to cry.

"Please.... in the future.. this doesn't matter....I love your son...he lives...." Hermione said, incoherently.

"_Silencio_"

Hermione found her voice silenced. She struggled against her bonds.

"I am not going to _kill_ you, witch. I will leave it to the muggles to do that. _Tres droles_, don't you think? I am not a witch killer, I am a witch _hunter_. Whenever I hear of base-born muggles suspected of witchcraft, I come hurrying over...to confirm it. We cannot have our magical world...how do you say it..._contaminé_.

_I was wrong. _Hermione thought frantically. _I may have saved Lord and Lady Granger so that they could continue the Granger line, but I am going to die here. I will never return to my future parents. To Harry. To Ron. To Draco...I was wrong to think I could handle everything by myself..._

__"When the muggles return, they will find, like many other witches I have tried, that you will freely admit your guilt. Surprisingly, they will find no mark of torture upon you, and that is what always convinces them that I am a true judge of witchcraft... _Imperio_"

Hermione screamed, but no sound came from her mouth.

A white hot spark paralysed her mind...this was worse than any Imperius curse she had ever experienced before.

"You will admit to witchcraft. You will say you raised my son from the dead and spirited my ring to you for demonic purposes. You will admit to brewing magical potions with the aid of the devil. And you will not reveal anything about me. _Comprendez_?"

Hermione nodded.

He looked at her worriedly, she was a particularly powerful common-witch. It had needed every ounce of his magical power to cast the Imperio over her. Before he gave her back her voice, he'd better test to see if she was truly under the power of the Imperius.

"_Embrassez-moi_" he commanded.

Immediately, Hermione leaned forward and gave him a deep kiss.

"_Tres bien_" he said, satisfied, and wiped his lips with a handkerchief. He removed the _silencio _from her. Hermione stood, expressionless, and watched as the rest of the panel returned, together with some of the crowd of onlookers.

"She has already confessed to me, and is ready to confess to you" said Antoine, stepping back. "Ask her what you wish."

"Mistress Hermione, are you a witch?" asked the oldest priest present.

"_Yes._" said Hermione.

The room gasped.

"How did you get hold of the ring and the potion?"

"_I raised Antoine's son from the dead and summoned his ring. I needed them to do the devil's work."_

_"_What else have you done, witch?"

"_I brew magical potions with the aid of the devil._"

Antoine smiled. Another dirty-blood would burn today. The witch was right ...Salazar Slytherin _would_ have been proud of him.

  


********************************* 

  


  


Draco looked ashen as he thrust an old leather-bound book toward Harry. A page was marked with a slim strip of leather.

Harry frowned. "This is from the Museum Library...Draco, youstole this!"

Draco didn't reply. He just kept staring at Harry with that wild, nervous look.

"Draco?" asked Blaise, a chill creeping over her, "Does that book tell us what happened to Hermione?"

"Read it, Harry." said Ron impatiently.

Harry opened the book the page marked by the leather strip and scanned it quickly. The paper was yellowed, and the ink faded, so it was hard to make out. He looked up, hoping to ask Draco for help, but it was clear that Draco was incapable of speech. Draco looked worse and worse. Harry returned his attention to the book before him and squinted at the sprawly hand.

And then he saw it.

"_Let it be recorded that in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and eighty six, on the eighth day of the eleventh month, Lord Granger of Mildenstowe Suffolk had his title removed and his lands confiscated by the Crown when he was found guilty of concealing information about witchcraft in his household. His daughter was tried before the Interrogative Council of the King, chaired by the Master Witch Hunter Antoine Malefoy._

_Let it also be recorded that in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and eighty six, on the eighth day of the eleventh month, Mistress Hermione Granger, the daughter of Lord Granger, was burnt at the stake on charges of witchcraft."_

__Harry looked up from the page.

"She's .....dead " he said slowly."You... Malfoys... killed... Hermione."

  


********************************** 

  


The smoke rose in a soft column, billowing black at the base and fading to white at the top. Smoke and cloud appeared the same against the blue of the sky. The pain she was in prevented Hermione from focusing on any particular thought. Images flitted through her mind, fleeting and insubstantial.

It had all happened so fast. One week ago he had been by her side.

"Somebody save me," she prayed. "God... please save me. Draco..."

But no one came.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was dead.

  


  


***********************************

  


  


Blaise felt her eyes brimming with tears. She had never been close to Hermione, but everyone knew the Head Girl with her bushy chestnut hair and kind heart.

Ron had snatched the book from Harry and was reading it for himself. He looked a nasty shade of grey. For once in his life, he was filled with anger but didn't know who to take it out on. One could hardly blame Draco for what had happened hundreds of years ago.

"Oh my god" said Blaise, beginning to cry for real. "She's _dead. _N-no wonder you wanted to tell us in p-private....Your ancestors were witch hunters? Y-You mean they sentenced witches to burn at the stake?"

"Not all witches..." Draco said, turning away, "just...just..."

"Muggleborns and half-bloods" said Harry, in a low voice.

"Yes."

"Your ancestors were even greater f**kheads than you!" growled Ron. "You _burned_ our own kind!"

Draco said nothing.

"No wonder Lucius was such a blood-obsessed, murderous..."

"It's true," Draco said dully, "I checked up the Malfoy records in the our own home. It's true. A large part of our fortune was made from witch-hunting in the fourteenth to sixteenth centuries."

Blaise gasped.

"I guess things have come full circle" continued Draco, "I cannot think of a worse way of punishing a Malfoy than what my ancestors did to the woman I love."

Ron was speechless again.

Harry re-read the passage. "Hang on, it says here she died on the _eighth day of the eleventh month,_ in the year you got sent back to..."

"Yes. That means..."

"there is still..."

"...time..."

"...to save her..."

"...if you can go back at least 506 years in time."

Harry and Draco stared at each other.

"I already figured that out after I spoke to..."

"But how?" said Blaise despairingly, "No time turner can take you back that far!"

"You have to go the same way you went in the first place" said Ron, suddenly. "You have to take Thyme Eliminus again."

"NO!" said Blaise, "It's too risky! Everyone knows how unstable Thyme Eliminus is, how do we know he will go back to _exactly_ the right time to save her? What if Draco gets sent back to the time of the...the...binotaurs or something?"

"Dinosaurs" said Harry.

"I was saying...I already figured it out after speaking to Dumbledore yesterday. I went back to Hogwarts to borrow the equipment to brew a Thyme Eliminus but Dumbledore stopped me. He said what Blaise said...that it was too dangerous."

"But it's our _only_ hope!" said Ron despairingly. "We've got to try! All three of us could take it and each take a chance we end up at the right place!"

Draco shook his head. "No, Dumbledore had a better suggestion."

"What?" said Harry. He was surprised Dumbledore and Draco had been consulting together. It felt a little strange to see someone other than himself being guided by Dumbledore.

"There is only _one_ sample of Thyme Eliminus which we know is guaranteed to bring us back exactly 506 years into the past."

Blaise blew her nose on her handkerchief and nodded. "I know, it's the one Hermione brewed."

"But it's with the Department of Catastrophes." said Ron. "And it's been classified as _Highly Dangerous and Unstable..._ we'll never get them to release it to us. At least, even if we do, it'll take days and involve mountains of red tape!"

"There is only one way to get it" said Draco, "Which is why I returned hastily from Hogwarts hoping to meet up with you all. But before I could contact you, I received the owl about the Zabini's lawsuit and I had to turn up in court. Apparently, _someone_ overheard us in the leaky cauldron and ratted on us to Blaises' dad. But anyway...now that I'm here..."

"HOW DO WE GET THAT POTION?" cried Ron, feeling so agitated that he could hardly sit still.

"There is one person who has can sneaked into the Ministry vaults undetected before..." All eyes turned to Harry, who nodded.

"Potter...H-H-Harry..., please help me." said Draco, turning red.

Ordinarily, Harry might have felt some triumph at hearing Draco beg, but this was no time for such petty feelings.

"All right," said Harry immediately. "We'll need some things...my invisibility cloak, and Sirius' knife that can open all doors..."

Ron and Blaise looked at each other, "We want to help too" they said, at the same time.

Harry shook his head. "No...it's too risky, we've all grown quite a bit since Hogwarts, Ron...I doubt we'd both of us fit under the invisibility cloak any more."

"You're going alone?" asked Draco, surprised. "I'd thought of going with you."

Harry stood up, his green eyes bright. "No, I'm going alone. I know the Ministry like the back of my hand." a soft look came into his face, "Hermione would have said it was far more sensible I went alone."

"Well what are we going to do?" asked Ron, slightly disappointed. "Just sit around and wait for you?"

Draco turned to Ron, "Actually, we have quite a lot of stuff to do...Dumbledore and I figured out why it was that our clothes don't travel with us back or forward in time...apparently, they can't exist in two points in time. Only if things existed in the past do they travel with us to the past, and vice versa. Hence, my wedding ring still exists because precious metals don't decompose after hundreds of years..." Draco held up his left hand and a gold and ruby ring flashed before their eyes. "So I need to find some clothes that existed 506 years ago if not, I'd end up returning nude. Also some wands."

"_You_ need to find?" said Ron, "Don't you mean _we_ need to find?"

Draco was taken aback. "Y-You want to come too?"

"Yes," said Blaise quickly. "Of course we do, don't we Ron?"

"Yeah." said the red head.

Harry headed for the door, "Right, you all get onto that, and I'll see about that potion. Shall we say back here in four hours?"

Everyone nodded.

After Harry left, Ron and Draco stared at each other.

"Well..."

"Actually..."

Both men tried to speak at the same time, then stopped. Blaise watched nervously as the two sized each other up.

"Truce, Weasley?" said Draco at last, extending his hand. "For Hermione?"

"Yeah..." said Ron, shaking Draco's hand. "For Hermione."

"Hurry up!" said Blaise, grinning at the two wizards, "I know just the place we are likely to find 500 year old suits and wands!"

"Where on earth...?"

"Where else does one go when at wits' end?" asked Blaise.

"Hogwarts" said Draco and Ron together.

"Well, come on," Blaise said, taking out her wand to apparate to Hogsmeade.

"Time to change History," said Ron.


	31. Chapter 31: I Knew You'd Come

**A/N: **My story is _very nearly at its end! _The last few chapters are taking me a long time to write, as did the last few chapters for my other story, so you will have to be patient. 

  


I am getting so many reviews per chapter that I feel I owe it to you to write the concluding chapters properly. Like the naughty Fay, I had this _all planned from the start,_ but so many of you have seen different (and great) directions for this story that I'm worried you'll be mad at me for the way I end it.

  


To my mind, there is only one suitable ending to this whole crazy tale, and you may agree with me, and you may not... but whatever it is, you will find out what it is by next week!

  


  


  


**Chapter 31: I Knew You'd Come**

  


A very odd group was gathered in Severus Snape's office. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were there. Profressor Snape was there dressed in potion-proof robes of metallic silver and that made him look like rather like a baked potato wrapped in foil. To his left were three young people, two men and a woman, dressed in elaborate costumes from the 15th Century.

"You look nice" said Blaise, looking approvingly at Ron. Ron blushed. He felt stupid in the tunic and hose, and couldn't understand how Draco could look as if wearing suc an outlandish costume was the most natural thing in the world. Draco was pacing up and down Professor Snape's study, his leather boots with their high heels tap-tapping across the cold stone floor.

"You look nice too" said Ron. Blaise was wearing a dark-blue velvet gown which Professor McGonagall had managed to salvage from one of the attics. A few anti-mothhole spells had made it as good as new. Blaise touched the outfit reverently.

"I can't believe people used to wear things like that all the time" she said.

"They did" said Draco shortly. "Believe it."

"No need to snap" said Ron.

"Where the hell is Potter?"

"Now, be careful with these wands" Professor McGongall said, handing over a bunch of ancient wands to Draco, Ron and Blaise. "They haven't been used for many years, so they may be a bit temperamental."

"Test them out" said Dumbledore. "We found them in Argus Filch's storeroom, confiscated from errant witches and wizards over the years, and these dated as far back as the fourteen hundreds."

"_Lumos_" said Draco quickly, flicking his wand. It gave a few weak sparks before giving out a soft glow at its tip.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_" said Blaise, pointing it at a book on the table. The book gave a few nervous twitches before lifting itself two feet into the air.

"E_r... Avis_" said Ron, and two little birds shot out of the end of his wand, and twittered madly around the room.

"Thank goodness," said Professor McGonagall. "Now, we only hve to wait for Harry to test out his..."

"Hmm..., all this history hunting has given me an idea. Severus, Minerva, what do you think of the idea of setting up a Hogwarts Museum in one of the spare halls? We could include that lovely collection of singing tea-cups from the eighteenth century..."

Severus Snape rolled his eyes. "Fascinating idea, Albus".

Dumbledore chuckled, seemingly unaffected by the tense mood in the room. "And that hideous duelling outfit from the thirteenth century..." he mused.

"I still use that outfit" said Snape, rather stiffly.

There was a knock at the door. Draco whipped around as Harry let himself in.

"Have you got it?" asked everyone at the same time.

Harry grinned and held up a small vial of potion.

"Is that all?" asked Draco in surprise. There must have been less than a tablespoonful of potion in the vial.

"That's standard sample size for Ministry records" said Snape, taking the vial from Harry. He read the label aloud, "Sample 44523.12.TE Thyme Eliminus, brewed by Hermione Granger on 21 May 2005, extremely unstable, DO NOT HANDLE WITHOUT PROTECTIVE WEAR".

"I'm sorry I was late" said Harry, turning to Draco. "Security seems to have increased since the last time I broke into the Ministry. I nearly got caught by the sentry trolls."

But Draco simply flicked his hands impatiently and hurried over to where Snape was separating the potion into four separate vials.

"You realise of course, Albus, that what we are doing is highly illegal?" said Snape, looking up.

Dumbledore winked, "The level of legality of an operation is proportional to it's necessity. As there is an extreme necessity for our actions, it follows that our actions must be extremely legal as well."

Professor Snape looked unconvinced, but he had long ago given up trying to understand the twists and turns of the Headmaster's mind.

Professor McGonagall and Harry reappeared from the side room. Harry was wearing a dark green suit and hose. In his hand was a 500 year old wand that once belonged to Fulvic the Frivolous, a past Hogwarts student who had had his wand confiscated for constantly making the suits of armour in the hallways tap-dance.

"Neat outfit" said Ron, grinning.

"The hose is a little tight" said Harry, pulling at it.

"Let's go!" said Draco, impatiently. "We don't know quite where or when we'll end up, so let's not waste any more time."

Professor Snape eyed Draco in surprised. All his years in Hogwarts, he had never seen Draco so passionate about something before. The boy had always been laid-back and unmotivated. Could it be that he had really changed so much over the last six months? And if so, what experiences had he gone through to bring about such a huge change in him?

"Calm yourself, Malfoy" said Snape, handing him a vial of the potion. "Panic only causes us to make mistakes."

Harry, Ron and Blaise each took a small vial from Snape as well.

"Good luck" said McGonagall suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her. She had tears in her eyes. "Please bring Miss Granger back" said the old witch in a choked voice, "She doesn't deserve to die like that."

Albus Dumbledore put a comforting arm around his friend. "There, there Minerva...we all know what Mr Potter and Mr Weasley can achieve, and I think they an't help but be even more succesful with the aid of the very capable Mr Malfoy and Miss Zabini."

Dumbledore turned to the four young people towards him. "That is not to say that what you are undertaking to do is not a very dangerous and serious mission."

"We know" said Harry.

"Please understand," said Dumbledore, "that changing history is never simple or predictable. I must warn you to stick _entirely_ to your mission- _get Miss Granger home_. Hermione knew the importance of preserving history- it is why she gave up her opportunity to return home: to ensure the safety of her ancestors so that the Granger line continued. _I want you all to promise me that you will not change anything else._"

The four of them exchanged nervous looks. "I promise" said Harry quickly. Ron and Blaise followed. Draco nodded, "Yes."

"All right, everyone please stand three feet apart from each other. Albus, Minerva, if you would please move to the back of the room..." Snape nodded curtly. "Good luck."

The four students looked tensely at each other, their vials held at the ready.

"On the count of three. One....two...."

"Wait" said Draco suddenly, turning around to where the Professors stood at the far end of the room. The hands of the three others froze in the air, on the way to pouring the potion on themselves.

Draco looked over at where his Potions Master stood.

"Professor Snape..." he said, in a soft voice, "if...if...anything happens to me, will you please look after my mother?"

Severus Snape's eyes softened behind his protective goggles. Draco continued, "Narcissa's not well, after all that trouble with father, and she needs proper care. Father's in Azkaban now, so there's no one else. I knew you were her...friend...back in your Hogwarts days." 

"Of course," said Snape quietly. "I am still her friend. I always will be."

"Thank you," said Draco, in a genuinely grateful voice.

Harry and Blaise smiled, and Ron cocked his head to one side as he heard Hermione's voice from long ago saying.... "_his father is in Azkaban and his mother is sick. We shouldn't give Malfoy a hard time..._"

"Time to go" said Harry, putting a hand on Draco's arm. There was no count-down this time, in silence, the four young people splashed the potion on themselves.

  


******************************************* 

  


  


There was a familiar feel to the place. The smells, the sounds....Draco leapt to his feet. It was dark all around him. It took a few moments for him to remember where he was and what he was doing there. Thyme Eliminus...Hermione....Witch Burning...Hogwarts...Harry, Ron...

"Blaise?" he called uncertainly, looking around him at the cottage. "Potter? Weasley?"

He lifted his arm and saw that his arms were covered with rich brocade. He wasn't naked- Dumbedore had been right, as usual....the suit had withstood time travel. In fact, it looked newer now than it had back in Hogwarts. Quickly, he felt inside his cloak for his wand – his fingers curled around the the slim, wooden object and he drew it out in relief.

"_Lumos"_ he said. The room lit up with a pale yellow light.

_Where on earth are Harry, Ron and Blaise_?

With a shock he recognised where he was- this was Ruth Brenthurst's cottage. It seemed like yesterday he and Hermione had lain on the straw pallet beside the fire, but the fireplace was empty and the floor covered in leaves. _It didn't work_ thought Draco desperately, _This is the wrong time!_

He heard a sound outside the cottage. "Potter, is that you?" he called.

The door was pushed open and sunlight flooded the cottage.

"Bless the Lord! You've come back!" said a familiar voice with a heavy accent. "And they'd said you were dead!"

"Ruth!" said Draco, quickly sheathing his wand and walking towards her. The old woman had aged a lot, she looked thinner and frailer than he remembered. "Where is Hermione?" he said.

Ruth Brenthurst began to cry as she sat down at the table. "Gone! The lassie is gone!"

It was a long time before Draco could get a coherent response out of her. "Where is she?"

"She is taken to Essex, to be tried on charges of witchcraft!"

Draco's eyes blazed in triumph, "What day is this?" he asked.

"What?" Ruth Brenthurst wiped her eyes on her apron. "Have you lost your mind?"

Draco nearly stamped his feet in frustration. "What day is this?" He repeated, as patiently as he could, "I have been travelling and have lost track of time." Again he wondered if the potion had gone wrong, and where in the world were Harry, Ron and Blaise.

"It's the seventh day of November, in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and eighty six" said Ruth, beginning to cry again, "Such unhappy things have come to pass! The lass went with Mary to answer for you back at Granger mansion, but they caught her on charges of witchcraft. She is brought to Essex and stands trial today! I have searched everywhere for you, but word went out you were dead in Goringsbury! If you be ghost or man, I do not know, and it does not matter!" Ruth rocked back and forth, weeping. The stress of the past few days had clearly taken their toll on her.

Draco felt a strange emotion well-up in his heart. It felt like pain, but it also felt good. He put his arms around the old woman, "Don't upset yourself, I am come to save my wife." he assured her. The feeling in his heart, was compassion and kindness.

Ruth nodded and smiled. "I said it would be thus. I said you'd come back, but everyone called me an old fool."

"You told me to look after my wife," said Draco, "I will."

"You'll be needing a horse," Ruth said, getting to her feet. "Go to Crunther at the Bull's Head and ask for his strongest. Essex is not far, seven hours hard riding should take you there. Do you ride well, Draco?"

Draco was already hurrying out of the cottage. "I ride very well" he said, confidently.

  


  


******************************* 

  


  


"What the..." said Ron, staring at Harry and Blaise. His eyes were full of confusion.

"It didn't work!" said Blaise in disappointment. She had been so hoping to go back in time to help save Hermione.

Severus Snape and the other Professors hurried over.

Harry was holding his head. "Something's wrong" he whispered, "Something's wrong."

"Are you all right Harry?" asked Blaise, looking at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

Harry rubbed his temple, "How strange, it's passed. It was like when Malfoy disappeared, I felt something _jolt_ within me, like something in my mind...didn't you feel it?"

Blaise looked thoughtful. "Yes...now that you mention it. My first thought was that the potion didn't work on us, but then, I also felt a little strange...like a numbness. But it's nothing, Harry. Probably just the potion."

"Yeah," said Ron, "just the usual failed potion head-ache. We're lucky it didn't turn us into trolls or something. I don't undestand why it didn't work on us!"

Dumbledore listened to the conversation with interest. Hmm, how _interesting_ that those three had felt a jolt. As a matter of fact, he had felt a _jolt_ too. It troubled him, but not unduly.

"Yeah, Professor Dumbledore...why didn't it work?" said Harry, looking around in confusion.

_That_, _I can answer_ thought Dumbledore, remembering his very candid conversation with a very guilty and troubled Draco the day before. Clearing his throat. "Ahem..Well, Harry, let's just say that all along I _thought _this might happen."

"What? That the potion would only work on Malfoy?" said Ron, "Why?!"

"Let's just say that it was Draco's _wish_."

"He knew all along? He wished for us to stay behind?" said Blaise.

"Not exactly," said Dumbledore. "Not that sort of wish. In fact, not one that we can understand at all."

The three young persons stared at the headmaster curiously...what on _earth_ was he on about?

"I can offer you a simpler explanation, Weasley," said Snape, rolling his eyes. "The Fay Dust in the potion makes it extremely unstable. It isn't surprising that it worked only for Draco and not for you."

"Well, I get it, er I think" said Ron, starting to feel foolish in his medieval get-up. "We'd better get out of these then."

"I hope Draco managed to save Hermione on his own." said Blaise worriedly, "It would be awful if anything happened to him as well."

"Draco Malfoy is perfectly capable of looking after himself and Hermione" said Snape. "As long as Miss Granger doesn't try any of her rash and overly-heroic Gryffindor missions again."

McGonagall looked disapproving at Snape's choice of words. "I think you mean _spirited_ and _brave_ Gryffindor missions, don't you Severus?" she said.

"Perhaps" said Severus, "Anyway, we'd better get down to business. I think Draco had a request before he disappeared, did he not?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly, rubbing his temples as he was getting that throbbing _jolt_ of a headache again.

"So are you going now?" asked Blaise.

"Come on then" said Snape looking at them with a long-suffering air, "Much as I hate having hangers-on, you three can probably provide a better explanation at Malfoy Manor than I can."

  


  


******************************* 

  


Bruised and dirty, Hermione was thrust forward into the courtroom by armed guards. Her eyes flashed angrily as she stared at the panel before her. There was an empty seat in the middle of the panel.

"You are making a big mistake" she said. "I was not meant to die like this!"

"Are you saying you can see the future, witch?" cried one of the men on the bench. He was a priest, who looked much like Father Lorenzo, but whose eyes were hard. Father Lorenzo was now miles away, in Mildenstowe, while she was all alone here in Essex, where the witch trials were conducted.

"Once again, I ask you what this foul philtrum we found on you is?" said a well-dressed man on the bench, holding up her leather pouch of Reverse Thyme Eliminus.

"Why don't you drink some and see?" she said, wearily.

"The witch tries to murder us!" said someone in the crowd, and several people crossed themselves.

"He is here!" shouted someone. A hush fell upon the crowd as heavy footsteps approached the room.

"My Lord" said a guard, falling back.

Her hands tied behind her back, and her feet chained together, Hermione tried her best to turn around to see who had arrived. A tall, hooded figure in a black cape stepped into the room.

There was a familiar aura about the figure.

The figure lifted a pale hand and held out a royal decree, clearly stamped with the Royal Seal of Henry Tudor.

"My Lord...you have come so swiftly, as usual... we are much obliged. Please, take your seat."

The figure's face was half-obscured by his hood, and the rest of it was in shadow. Calmly, he mounted the raised dais and took his seat on the bench at the centre of the panel. There was a quiet moment as he regarded Hermione from beneath his cloak. She thought she saw him nod imperceptibly, before he began to speak.

"I wish to have a few moments with this witch alone" he said in a familiar voice. "She is hard to break and very dangerous."

_It couldn't be._ Hermione caught her breath.

"Please, my lord, are you sure you can handle this..." said one of the priests on the panel, doubtfully.

The figure turned to him and said haughtily, "Have my methods ever failed before? You think I am incapable of doing this?"

"No, my lord... the effectiveness of your methods are legend...it is just that..."

"Perhaps you have no faith" said the figure silkly, "Maybe you do not trust in the Lord our God, in which case we should have you..."

"Not at all, my lord" said the old priest, leaping to his feet. "We will leave you with this witch."

Hermione cottoned on quickly. There was no mistaking that haughty drawl... "Leave or I will curse all of you! _Curses allus_!" she screamed, suddenly to the gallery. The peasants gathered there screamed and crossed themselves, rushing for the exit.

"SILENCE WITCH!" roared the master witch hunter. Hermione fell silent and cowered. "You see, she fears me" said the figure, in a choked voice.

In a flash, the room was cleared of people. Hermione made sure she glared and muttered at each of the panel members on their way out. Finally, she was alone in the room with the Master Witch Hunter. He stood up from the bench.

"_Curses allus_?" said the master witch hunter mildly, throwing back the hood of his cloak and grinning. "Is that the best you could think of?" He descended the dais quickly and took out his wand.

Hermione trembled as he walked towards her. Her eyes were bright with joy.

"_Evanesco_" he said to her bonds, and they disappeared.

That was enough delay. Hermione threw herself into his arms and held him so tightly he lost his breath.

"I knew you'd come!" she cried


	32. Chapter 32: Family, Honour, Love

**Chapter 32: Family, Honour...Love**

  


_Life is a stream_

_On which we strew_

_Petal by petal the flower of our heart;_

_The end lost in dream,_

_They float past our view,_

_We only watch their glad, early start. _

  


Draco ran his hands through her thick, brown, hair. Once so carefully braided around her head, it now hung loose around her shoulders. He was reminded of the moment when they had sat before the the fire in Ruth Brenthurst's cottage on Samhain, and how he had seen the light of the flames glinting against her chestnut hair. It had looked like her hair was on fire. Shuddering slightly, and pulling her close to him, he pushed the sight out of his head. _I made it in time, _he thought to himself.

"How did you know where to find me? How did you come back?" Hermione was brimming over with questions.

Draco shook his head. "I'll answer everything later."

Hermione nodded, and pointed to the bench, "Okay. There's the Reverse Thyme Eliminus I saved to use on myself on the table over there."

Draco rushed over to the bench and scooped up the leather pouch of the precious potion. He put it in his pocket and took a small stone out of his pocket and placed it on the floor.

"What's that?" asked Hermione curiously.

"It's the _real_ Master Witch Hunter" said Draco. "I was riding here when I met him on the road. Of course, there could only be one place he was heading, so I ambushed him and stole his Royal Decree."

"But how did you know who he was?" said Hermione, at once.

Draco turned pale. "I...when I...when you sent me back to the future, I read history books to discover what had happened to you."

Hermione frowned, "But you came to save me, Draco. Nothing happened to me."

"No... I mean... well, honestly? You didn't make it, Hermione. You were caught, tried, and burned as witch."

Hermione shook her head, in a daze. "I can hardly believe that."

"I got a really bad feeling you wouldn't make it back, and Dumbledore helped me to find out whether you made it or not. That's why I knew you died and came back for you."

"When did I die?" Hermione asked, in a whisper.

"Tomorrow" said Draco softly, folding her in his arms and giving her a small hug. "But tomorrow will not happen because we'll be going away soon."

"So how did you know the identity of the Master Witch Hunter?"

"I recognised who the master witch hunter was because the history books told me his name" Draco swallowed, finding that his throat was dry, "He was a Malfoy, Hermione. My ancestors co-operated with muggles to prosecute muggleborns and half-bloods."

Hermione looked at Draco in horror. "Oh my god."

"It's true. His name is Antoine Malefoy, and he's from France. He would have sentenced you to death."

"Your ring, Draco" she said quietly, "The envoy said it was the ring of the Master Witch Hunter. That is why I was caught!"

Draco nodded and pressed something cold and hard into the palm of her hand. "I found it on Antoine's finger... It was mine to give to you once because it was wrenched from you by Antoine. In one version of history, I had it all along because you died to give it to me. But you can wear it now."

"Will that mean your family won't have it for years and years?" said Hermione holding out the Malfoy ring.

"I don't think it matters," said Draco, taking it from her and slipping it onto her finger. "Family is about more than rings and symbols. The Malfoys will survive without it. Now stand back." Draco took out his wand.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I have to turn him back into a person." said Draco.

"Why?" cried Hermione, holding his arm, "Why not leave him!"

"We have to make sure he survives" said Draco, "to continue the Malfoy line so I exist in the future- like your family. You did save them, Hermione. I visited your parents with Harry, though you died doing it."

"But he will kill so many more muggleborns!" Hermione said, hanging onto Draco's wand arm. "Leave him be, Draco!"

"Dumbledore said we were not to change history..." said Draco seriously, holding Hermione's shoulders. She didn't hear him mutter the words "...too much." under his breath. 

"No!" she said.

"You must trust me on this one. Stand back."

Hermione still wasn't convinced, but she could tell from the look on Draco's face that he meant to do it, whatever she might say.

"_Finite Incantatem."_

Hermione leapt back as the smooth pebble on the floor transformed into the figure of a man. He was tall, and blonde, and his face was cruel...

"_Lucius_!" Hermione gasped, and staggered back. She had a real fear of the man- Lucius Malfoy had been one of the most deadly of Death Eaters.

The man who resembled Lucius Malfoy blinked and frowned. "_Qui êtes-vous?_ What is this?" he said, with a strong French accent. He caught sight of Draco with his wand out and his eyes narrowed, "V_ous êtes un magicien pur sang! _You were the one who_..."_

"_Immobilius" _said Draco, brandishing his wand. The man's arms snapped to his sides, and his face contorted in shock.

"Now, I know you can hear me, Antoine Malefoy." Draco said, walking towards him, his wand outstretched. "So listen up. You will not understand what is going on here, and you will leave this place without understanding. But I do know one thing, I will not let you go on hunting out muggleborns and half-bloods, do you hear me?"

Being frozen, Antoine could not move or speak, but in his eyes was a look of anger, and....Hermione thought, _fear_? Draco was taller than Antoine, and dressed very richly- he cut an imposing figure and there was no doubt that he was powerfully magic. But the most intimidating thing about Draco at that moment, was his expression. It was hard, and merciless.

"I am going to make sure that you don't," said Draco, lifting his wand.

"Draco..." Hermione warned, "Remember what Dumbledore said about changing History! I thought..."

But Draco ignored her. "_Obliviate_!" he said.

If Antoine had not been immobilised, he would have fallen onto the floor. As it was, he reeled from the shock of the memory charm. His eyes, when he stared at Draco, were blank and confused.

Hermione held her breath. What was Draco _doing_?

"You can't leave him like that..." she found herself saying. She remembered Gilderoy Lockhart's condition after he had been blasted by a powerful memory charm.

"Don't worry, I just modified his memory a little" said Draco. "And I'm not done yet..."

"Stop it...what are you doing? You mustn't tamper with the past like that!"

"..._Imperio!"_

"Draco, that's a forbidden curse!" cried Hermione, getting desperate.

"Not in 1486" said Draco, wryly.

Hermione wanted to yank Draco away from Antoine, but Draco had such a determined look on his face that she felt if she tried anything like that, he might hex her for it.

Draco turned to Antoine, who still bore a blank, confused look. "You will say this witch escaped and you couldn't stop her. You will return to France. More importantly... you will _never_ hunt muggleborns and half-bloods again, and you will _never_ instruct your children and family in such ways. Understand?"

Antoine, still frozen, couldn't indicate that he understood, but his eyes now bore a calm and peaceful look. Hermione knew that Draco's _imperius_ had worked. She wondered how he had known how to cast such a powerful dark spell so well.

"Lucius taught me how to cast dark spells" said Draco, reading her thoughts. "I can't believe it came in useful one day."

He took off his cape and draped it over Antoine's shoulders. Antoine's eyes watched Draco's every move, but he was still immobilized. "Oh, and this is yours too, _monsieur_," said Draco taking a second wand out his pocket and slipping it into Antoine's waistcoat. "Use it well."

With a flick of his wand, Draco removed the silence and seal charms from the room. "Come, Hermione" he said, holding his hand out to her. 

Draco's behaviour in the last five minutes had been so overbearing that Hermione almost felt frightened to hold his hand. Timidly, she placed her palm in his, and was immediately pulled into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Hermione" Draco whispered, "But I had to do it. When I read that you had burned, I could see it all... How the flames would consume you and you would be screaming... and I couldn't let that happen to you... or any other muggleborns or halfbloods... not by a _Malfoy_."

Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. Her hair smelled like roses.

"Some things you did for your family, some things I do for mine."

Hermione nodded. "I understand now about honour, family..."

"...love." said Draco, tilting her face up to his. "I understand too. This was my choice Hermione. I don't know how it will affect the future, but it is a risk I _must_ take, to help the Malfoy family honour. And I do it not merely for honour, but for love."

"That is a good enough reason to do anything," said Hermione, smiling at her husband.

From the centre of the room, Antoine watched the scene in surprise. The obviously pure-blooded wizard was kissing the common witch. Strangely, it didn't seem to bother him anymore. He couldn't remember if it ever had.

"Time to go" said Draco. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around Draco's waist as he took out the Reverse Thyme Eliminus and untied the stopper with one hand. With the other, he used his wand to perform a _finite incantatem_ on Antoine.

"_Arrêt!_" Hermione heard Antoine say, as she felt herself falling into a deep, heavy, sleep.

  


  


  


************************************ 

  


  


She never wanted to wake up, she was so warm and comfortable…

"Good morning, M'Lady..." said a voice.

"Mmmm, Draco" she said, pressing herself tighter against his familiar body. He was kissing her now. He started with her hair, then her face, then her neck...

She squealed and sat up in bed. For a moment, fear crossed her mind. _Where was she? What about Antoine the witch hunter?_

"Awake at last?" came a familiar drawl from behind her. Draco was sitting up in bed, dressed in a fifteenth century outfit.

It came rushing back. "You saved me!" she said, feeling a little bit shy at being completely naked next to Draco, who was fully dressed.

"But of course" said Draco, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Where are we?" Hermione said, looking around. They were in a large room, with beautiful french windows through which light was streaming, furnished with elegant furniture and a venetian glass lamp on the ceiling.

"Malfoy Manor" said Draco, in a pleased voice.

"Why didn't I wake up apart from you?" asked Hermione, "We did last time."

"Because we're married," Draco said, holding up her hand with the Malfoy signet ring on it. "And they know you don't belong anywhere else."

"Who?" said Hermione.

"Er...nothing" Draco thought he heard laughter again... somewhere. But he wasn't angry at that sound anymore, he felt that he understood it and had mastered it.

"Do you smell that?" said Hermione, sniffing the air. "Roses!"

"It's your hair" said Draco, breathing into her curls. "You always did smell like roses!"

"Was it all real then?" Hermione said, in wonder. "Lady Katherine, and the servants... midsummer, dreams, and your little cottage...."

"...and the walks in Flinders wood..."

"...and the doves we set free! Oh, and dear old Ruth Brenthurst!"

"Yes, it was all real" said Draco, climbing out of bed and grinning. "I still have the foul taste of your vegetable soup in my mouth..."

Hermione chucked a pillow at him.

"Let's get changed, and see what's what."

"What am I going to wear?" asked Hermione, slipping out of the bed.

"Wear one of my shirts, then I'll go and borrow something from mother's closet. She had racks of beautiful clothes and is about your size. She'd be pleased for you to wear them."

Hermione slipped on one of Draco's shirts. It covered her thighs modestly enough. Draco pulled off the medieval costume and quickly got dressed in shirt and pants.

"Can I borrow a comb?" asked Hermione, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Sure" said Draco, "It's in the top shelf of the cabinet over there."

He watched appreciatively as his young wife walked over to the cabinet. It was amazing that she could look prettier wearing one of his shirts than when wearing gorgeous medieval gowns.

"It's stuck" she said, yanking at the handles.

"Here, let me..."

But Hermione gave it a hard tug and an orange vase on top of the cabinet tipped over and shattered on floor.

"Oh dear!" she said, "Oh I'm so sorry! Shall we do a _reparo?_"

Draco laughed, "That's all right. That was from my Aunt Melina. I always hated it."

Hermione grinned, and stooped to pick up the cracked pieces but stopped when she heard footsteps outside the room. Draco heard them too and whipped around.

"I heard a noise...go on, see what's inside...." said a woman's voice. The door handle turned.

Hermione instinctively stood closer to Draco who put an arm around her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room. He had long silver-blonde hair tied at the back of his neck and piercing gray eyes. There was a moment of silence as the man, Draco and Hermione stared in shock at each other.

"He's escaped!" whispered Hermione, turning pale and moving to a corner behind Draco. "Draco...he's _escaped_!"

Draco drew his wand immediately and pointed it at the man.

"Stay where you are...!" he commanded.

The man looked confused. "Wha...?"

"I said stay where you are! I don't want to hurt you, father, but I will!" said Draco, shaking.

"Lucius... what's going on?" said a woman's voice from behind Lucius Malfoy.

"All right, Draco... don't do anything silly. I won't move... but please, listen to your mother" said Lucius, quietly.

A slim, blonde woman stepped past him into the room. Draco's mind was whirling.

"M-Mother?" he said.

Hermione looked curiously at Lucius and Narcissa. They looked like she had remembered them... yet there was something different about them...

"Now Draco, stop this nonsense and put down your wand!" said his mother firmly.

Footsteps came running towards the room from behind Narcissa, and at the doorway to the room, a boy's voice said, "What's happening, Mrs Malfoy? Are they back?" Hermione thought she recognised that voice.

"Yes" said Lucius, slowly, "But they seem to have gone a little... mad."

"What are you doing out of bed, mother?" Draco asked.

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon, what would I be doing in bed?" said Narcissa, hands on hips, "Now, you do as I say and put down that wand! Ah!" she caught sight of Hermione, "I see you managed to bring Hermione back! Oh my! Lucius, they're _both _back! We must tell the Grangers at once!"

"What's going on?" came the boy's voice again. Hermione was sure she knew who it belonged to, it was...

...Harry Potter burst into the room.

"Harry!" shrieked Hermione, momentarily forgetting about Lucius.

"Hermione! You're back! Malfoy, you did it... Oh thank God!" Not noticing the tension in the room, Harry rushed forward and enveloped Hermione in a huge hug.

More voices could be heard beyond the door way. Hermione heard Ron's voice saying, "What's happening? What's bloody happening?"

Meanwhile, Narcissa and Lucius were walking slowly over to Draco. Draco's wand arm was still outstretched, and he was trembling.

"Darling, put down the wand" said his mother. "You're just confused or something. Time travel tends to do that to one."

Draco looked wildly from Narcissa to Lucius.

"You're supposed to be in Azkaban, y-you're a Death Eater... " he said to Lucius.

"_Whaaat_?" said Lucius, looking outraged, "Have you lost it completely, boy?"

"Your father may be a bit of a snob, but really Draco... I wouldn't call him a _Death Eater_!" said his mother sternly.

Draco stared at her. "And... and mother, you were sick... mental..."

Narcissa looked amused, "You always said your mother was a little eccentric, but _mental_ Draco? That's a first."

Ron and Blaise had already rushed in and were hugging Hermione.

From beneath the smothering hugs of her friends, Hermione was trying to speak to Draco, but her voice was choked with emotion... "Draco...it's all right! Your imperius...it worked... The Malfoys are all right....I know what happened..."

Draco felt tears come to his eyes. He lowered his wand and didn't even notice as the wood slipped from his fingers to the floor.

"Mother?" he said, looking at the face of the intelligent and vital woman in front of him. "You're well!"

"Why wouldn't I be, Draco..." said Narcissa, patting her son's cheek.

Draco turned to Lucius. His father was just as he remembered him – intelligent, proud, strong... everything Draco had wanted to admire in Lucius...but which had disappeared once Lucius had been sent to Azkaban for the murder of muggleborns while in the Dark Lord's command. 

"Father..." Draco whispered, in wonder, looking at the familiar gray eyes, once so hard and cold, but now filled with warmth.

Lucius Malfoy grunted in surprise as his only son threw himself on him and gave him a breath-depriving hug. He was not used to showing affection openly, and didn't really know how to react. Slowly, he put his arms around his son.

"There, there..." he said to Draco. "You really have gone mad, haven't you, boy?" But his voice was gentle as he scolded Draco, and only barely hid how happy he was at having his son back.

"Very touching" came a voice from the door.

All eyes turned to look at Severus Snape. "I hardly expected you back so soon, Malfoy. I was just taking these three young people here to explain to your parents why on _earth_ you wanted to go back a second time. If I had known you'd been back so soon, I wouldn't have bothered. All that melodrama for nothing..."

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned at Hermione. "You know what Snape's like! Anyway, We told them..."

"Hermione, that you'd stayed behind..." said Blaise happily.

"And that you were in danger of being fried at the stake..." said Ron.

"If someone didn't go back and rescue you!"

"In _danger_ of being burnt?" said Draco, in surprise.

"Yeah... don't you remember, Malfoy?" said Harry, "We found that book that said she was involved in a witch trial but someone came to save Hermione. She disappeared, and those past people never figured out where she went! We figured it must have been one of us, so we tried to go back and save Hermione... but only you went. The potion didn't work on us."

"The book said that?" said Draco.

"Sure," said Harry peering at Draco, "What's up with you Malfoy? A few hours ago, you knew exactly what was going on, now you're all confused."

"Time-travel can be confusing" said Narcissa to Harry. "I think everyone should come down for a spot of tea. Then we can talk everything out. Hermione, you'd better come with me first dear, you can't go around wearing Draco's shirt like that."

"I'm starving!" declared Ron putting his arm around Blaise.

"What's new?" said Harry.

The whole lot of people trooped out of Draco's bedroom. Lucius and Narcissa lingered, waiting till everyone had cleared out.

"Oh darling," said Narcissa, giving Hermione a hug. "Of course, we were shocked when we heard about your marriage to our son during the court case when that brilliant Mr Montague saved our fortune... But we are truly glad for you. I'm so glad Draco saved you, and you're here with us."

Hermione smiled and looked nervously at Lucius. Narcissa had always been the milder of the two Malfoy parents, but she didn't know if she could trust Lucius.

"Welcome to the family..." Lucius said, formally extending his hand and smiling,"... Mrs Hermione Malfoy."

  


  


**Epilogue**

  


I have told you a long tale of magic, faeries and two star-crossed lovers. I could end the story here, but I feel that to make the tale complete, I should tell you a little bit more about the lives of our hero and his lovely bride.

Let's go forward a few years, and see what our favourite couple are doing...Ah, here we are at Malfoy Manor, on the 12th of April, the year 2012...

  


It was Draco Malfoy's 25th birthday.

  


He stood at the table surrounded by his family. To his left were his mother and father. In his father's arms was a small girl of about five years of age- his eldest daughter Katherine. To his right stood his beautiful, brown-haired wife holding two tiny blonde boys by hand- his twin sons Thomas and Lucius, who had just turned three last month.

Before him were the substantial remains of an enormous tea. Scattered around the table were presents and cards, bearing birthday wishes from such people as "Harry and Ginny", "Mr and Mrs Ronald Weasley" and "Vincent Goyle – your best freind".

In the centre of the food and presents, was an enormous cake with "Happy 25th Birthday Draco!" printed in red icing across its centre. Twenty five candles burnt merrily on the cake as his family sang "Happy Birthday" at the tops of their voices, with his daughter giving the loudest (and most tuneless) rendition of all. She was repaid for her efforts by a kiss from her doting and indulgent grandfather...

Everyone clapped.

"Cake! Caaaake!" screamed the twins.

"Wait, daddy must blow out the candles first" said their grandmother, who was recording the whole session on a MagiCam.

Draco stared nervously at the candles on the cake.

"Make a _wish_" said his wife, cheekily. "Go on Draco, you know how _good_ you are at wishes."

His parents looked at each other and shrugged, wondering what their daughter-in-law could mean.

All around him, Draco could hear laughter, and smell roses, and hear the singing of a phantom court. He glared at his wife in mock anger. They both knew about his phobia of wishes...and more importantly, since he had told her everything that had happened, _how_ that phobia came about.

Draco blew out the candles quickly.

He kissed his wife and the family clapped. The twins stuck their fingers into the cake.

"So, what did you wish for this year?" asked his wife.

"You know what I wish for every year, Hermione" Draco said sheepishly.

Hermione winked at her husband, as they said together...

"**Absolutely nothing!"**

  


  


  


....Oh, and by the way - _they lived happily ever after._

  


  


  


**THE END**

  



End file.
